Requiem of a Fallen Angel
by White.Demon.Feathers
Summary: Vergil is stuck in Hell, and a beautiful and deadly ally may be his ticket out. But there's more baggage than Vergil realized. Now he must run from the Devil himself and do the one thing he never thought he'd have to: Protect an Angel. M to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

Breaking out was never so Hard.

Hell was beyond the methods of words and thoughts. It was too terrible and too awful for one who never ventured there to fathom the darkest and most horrifying place in the existence of the universe. Screams of agony fill every ear, smoke and brimstone stain the walls with a putrid scent, the floors are hot coals and the heat is so intense it melts the shoes right off one's feet.

Vergil kept the snarl inside him as another demon slashed at his back with a spiked metal nine-tailed whip. He had lost count of the days he had been trapped here. He shouldn't have even been caught. No demon that came up to him lived another moment once Vergil locked eyes with them. He had grown in strength and became resilient to the come of his fate. He had chosen to stay in hell and allowed his little twin brother enough time to get out. Both were simple facts. One did not perceive the other. One was not the cause to the other. Both were simple facts. Independent and now, irreverent.

Another slash and still Vergil did not let any emotion show. Demons did not feel pain the way mortals did. He did not feel pain the way mortals did. Hard, simple facts.

"Half-Devil? Why do you not cry out?" The demon at his back sounded more like tires screeching on pavement than anything remotely terrifying. So Vergil refused to acknowledge it. He also was not a fool. Get a demon talking and you could be stuck there listening to it for hours. And with a voice like that, the whips were a lesser of the two tortures. Ah. There, another slash. Only five more to go. Vergil exhaled the tainted air and steeled himself for the rest of the torture. It would get periodically worse throughout the day… or throughout the time he stayed awake. Starting with thirteen lashings, then it varied between other means of similar painful discomforts. He bled so much, but he would never die.

"It seems he is beginning to no longer feel his punishment." The whipping demon screeched. It was talking to someone-thing. Vergil almost turned his head to see who was observing him now. It had become no great secrete that one of Sparda's sons was in hell and receiving a seriously wicked fate. Satan himself had come to meet Vergil when he had been tied to four horses and stretched to his body's physical limit. That hadn't stopped the horses. And when he came to, his limbs were reattached to his body.

But Vergil couldn't catch a glimpse of the other party. But voice was all he needed to know who was behind him now. "Is that so?" A deeply feminine voice stated. She hadn't meant it a question and the demon said nothing. "How remarkable. That it should only be months and he has become bored of his housing." It was nothing but dark silk and glittering knives, her voice. And if his memory served him better than the nightmares, than she was just as frighteningly beautiful too. But Vergil was sure most Fallen were that way.

"Aella." Vergil rasped at her. It was _her_ fault he was in this position in the first place. He had not expected a Fallen, demons and devils yes. And he killed those with efficiency. But the Fallen had been an unexpected twist in his scheme. So it was more accurate to say that all of this was _his_ fault, but Vergil needed to blame her. If he didn't, he might fall pray to her nasty games. And from the stories could remember of fallen Angels, they were harder to play nice with than demons.

The name he was sure had been an accident. No Fallen, Devil, or Demon gave away their name willingly. But she had. The first night he was allowed to sleep. She came to him and told him her name. That was all she did. She had not ask for his nor asked for a favor. Nor did she trick him into owing her a favor. That piece of information he was unsure of what to do with. For now he used it merely to grasp her attention.

She was within his sight in a matter of nanoseconds. Her dark, ash gray gown brushed his bare feet and it was the most wonderful feeling in the history of the world. Then she smile, without showing her teeth, and Vergil felt the cold stab of a metaphorical knife in his gut. Whatever she was thinking was not going to be good for him. "Unchain him." She commanded over Vergil's shoulder to the demon. She never took her eyes away from his. Her very light green eyes that helped him remember what summer was.

"But Mistress, his punishment-" Aella disappeared for a half second and Vergil could feel that lose all the way to his bones. He let out a soft groan and realized too late that he had done so.

A warm and soft hand caressed the ripped flesh of his back; it was more soothing than ice and Vergil shivered without meaning to. "Dammit." He muttered loud enough for her to hear it. She probably already _knew_ how she affected him. That was why she visited him the least often. Even the badest of the bad and the darkest of the dark came to watch the oddity that he was tortured beyond madness.

"Vergil." There it was again: cold dark beauty in its rawest form. "Would you like for me to make it stop? Make the pain stop?" Vergil stiffened and Aella was back in front of him, her bloodied hands stroking his chest. "I could. If you asked it of me, I could heal your flesh and stop the pain." Her green, green eyes called out to his. There was more going on here than a generous offer. She wasn't asking anything of him, as far as he could tell. She seemed like the last thing on her mind at the moment was making Vergil feel better. A fallen doesn't feel things the same way mortals felt things.

"What do you want of me?" His harsh voice beckoned and she leaned in close to his lips, not touching him just by a breath. This was a whole different torture. They were far from alone in the chamber Vergil received lashings, there were other poor souls being ripped apart right then and there. Other demons crowded around certain spectacles and watched as the soul tried to fight back. But as Aella moved against him and spoke so intimately with him, it was like they were the only two in the whole damned world.

"_You're help." _They were words in his mind. Nothing more. Nothing but self-induced fantasies. Evidence that Vergil, son of Sparda finally snapped and went off the deep end. But as the fallen moved away from him she was no longer smiling and her eyes kept darting towards the other occupants of the chamber. "I want to have you for one night and one day. I will eliminate your tortures for that time and you will only know of the feeling of a woman against you and surrounding you." She was purring again now. But she seemed much more intent than before the voices started talking. Rather, the one voice that sounded exactly like hers spoke one phrase to him in his mind.

He did not want to trust this fallen. It was a trap. She would lure him into a false safety and soon, when his punishment became dull or too overwhelming, she would be there to either make it better for a set amount of time then throw him back to the sharks. Or she would never show up again with her offer and he would spend his fate speculating if it was a pitiful dream that it ever happened or wondering when she would show when she wasn't going to. Nothing here looked like a good option to him.

_You're help._

What could she need his help with? What did he have that she wanted?

"Yes." Vergil finally whispered to her. He was still chained up but he leaned over to finally grab hold of her lips. A seal on his fate if he ever saw one.

**RequiemOfAFallenAngel**

They were alone in what appeared to be a small bedroom. The only furnishings was the one bed. Black, stone walls, floor and ceiling gave the cave affect that most of the world did: dark, cold, bleak. Vergil was standing in the middle of the room, alone. Aella was no where. She brought him here, told him to not do anything stupid, and left again. And Vergil had not moved an inch. He told tall and unyielding all alone in a cave that was going to be his tomb one day. He was sure of it. Aella was a Fallen. She was an enemy. She had trapped him and brought him to her master, the Prince of Darkness himself…

Vergil growled at the sulfur stained air. He had been so bloody cocky when they had first met. So damned cocky. Like Vergil would never be able to best him at anything, ever! "That's where you're wrong." He muttered to the empty cave.

"Oh? About what?" That dark and tempting voice slid over his skin. He wanted to turn around so badly it hurt him. Could it be so bad to have one look? One indulgence before you go back to that hellhole? Vergil gritted his teeth. That was all she'd need. One moment of weakness to step her trap.

Her warm hands were on his back but she did not move them. She merely stood only touching him with her hands against the marred flesh of his back. It drove him crazy! He wanted her to move, to touch and caress him like she did back in the chamber. Why was she just standing there?

"My master has permitted me to keep you for one night only. Far shorter than I wanted." She seemed to be speaking out loud to herself. "It will have to be enough. I do not know when I'll be able to have you by yourself again." That sounded odd. By himself? Why did she need him by himself? But before Vergil could expand on that thought Aella was before him, her eyes locking with his. Her mouth was soft, he knew that now, and it look so inviting to him. He could lean forward like last time and take them, couldn't he? Would she allow him to have some form of control in a situation like this? And what was he just standing there waiting for her to initiate this?

"First…" She placed her hands on either side of his face, keeping him from looking away, if the thought ever occurred to him. Then, we felt the sensation of his ripped back healing. It was much like when he healed himself, but he hadn't been able to do that in a long time. Vergil couldn't remember if it always felt this freaky and he simply forgot, or that it was a Fallen's method of healing he was not used to.

For a very long time, they stood like that. Facing one another with her hands on his face and his form rigid and ready for the moment when she'd let go and for the pain that would replace the warmth she created inside him. She never wavered from his gaze. The Fallen stared at him openly and without a blush to her name. It was like she could look at him all day and never get bored. Then the moment was over and Aella stepped away from him and moved the sit on the bed.

Vergil was breathing hard. Why? Should she be panting? She was the one who did all the work. He glared at her suspiciously. But she was no longer looking at him. She had her eyes closed and she was frowning.

"What?" He demanded.

She cracked an eye open at him and smiled slowly. "Tapping into your power would have never been this hard for me if I weren't stuck here." She waited to let her words sink in.

"You tapped into my power?" Outraged that anyone would try something like that he moved to… To hit her? To scream at her? To… No, he was angry at the wrong person, he should be cursing himself. She had tapped into his soul, yes. But he let her do it. Vergil felt sick with himself.

But Aella seemed disappointed by his reaction. As if he caught the wrong end of the conversation. "What?" He demanded again, this time keeping his distance from her.

She shook her head at him and stood. "I'll tell you later." Her smile was suddenly back and Vergil felt the full effect of it now. "For now," she began to move closer to him, taking care in her movements, as if anything could abruptly set him off, "I'm going to help ease the tension out of you."

And she did. She had situated him to sit on the bed and she began to message his neck and shoulders. He never had that done before. He had never let a woman, man, or demon so close to such vulnerable spots. Especially a woman who was a Fallen and who tapped into his power to heal him. That was something he was thinking hard about now. The Prince had said that he took all his power away. So if Aella could tap into it, then it couldn't be gone now… Could it? That was good news. _Very_ good news.

Aella hit a particular tight muscle in Vergils and neck, and he moaned when she worked the kink out. It unnerved him that he was making these noises because of her. She held some kind of influence about him… She must have… But Aella pretended not to notice the sound. She dutifully continued her work undisturbed. Vergil wondered why she was doing this. He still didn't have an answer for the _kindness_, but it was what she was doing right now that he was thinking on. Why was she massaging him?

The whole plot, Vergil had thought, was to get him into bed. By her suggestive manner, it was an obvious conclusion. Not that Vergil minded the massage. It was far more than he should have liked. She had said that she did not have much time with him, so why was she wasting it with a massage that was doing nothing for her. She was getting nothing from this deal.

"You unnerve me." Vergil said. He was tired of his own thoughts. He was tired of circling back to the same unanswered conclusions; tired of ending at the same loose ends. But he had not meant to actually voice his thoughts, only to get a conversation going to fill the expanse of emptiness between them. If she had no plan to take him to her bed, then he might as well try to get her to talk to him. Of course, telling any woman- human,demon, and Fallen alike- that they were unnerving was probably a poor conversation starter.

She laughed. Not at him, but merely giving him a taste of such an exquisite sound. "Do I?" She laughed some more then spoke, a smile tinting all her words. "Tell me, what about me is _unnerving_?" She was beginning to sound like she was speaking to a little brother. Vergil frowned. Well, how a human sibling would sound anyway.

"I don't know your motives. That is unnerving." He felt her stiffen behind him, but her hands were constantly steady.

"That would be unnerving." She agreed. "But do you always know the motives of everyone?"

"I only need to know those that might harm me in the near future."

Her hands flowed over his shoulders and down his chest. Her body moved against his and it was now a _very _pleasant feeling since the pain of his back was no longer a distraction. "And you believe that I may do you harm? In the near future?" Her dark, liquid voice hovered over his ear, he felt her hot breath stroke his sensitive flesh.

"I do." But Vergil was beginning to feel the effects of her now. He could feel the warmth she created all the way to his bare feet. She was everywhere and the only thing he could see and smell. She was not tainted by the damned world's sulfur. The Fallen smelled like rain in a forest. Clean, pure.

"And what have I done to obtain such suspicion?" Ah, bloody hell. Vergil couldn't even follow the conversation anymore. He didn't want to. But a small itch at the back of his skull told him to focus.

"You give me your name, then capture me and give me to your master. You knew they were going to torture me, yet you allowed for it to happen. You come to me when I am at my lowest. You offer me kindness and heal my wounds but you do not ask for anything in return." He stared intently at the black wall across from him. His hand had taken hold of hers. Finally, his was in some form of control.

The Fallen pressed her face against his and the warmth that only a woman could give off robbed his brain of reason. Why was he fighting so hard against her? "I guess that could warrant suspicion." Her voice become husky and that much more dangerous. "If I tell you what I want in return, then you'll find me less suspicious?"

"Not less, I will be simply be able to determine whether or not I can take your word or not." The half-demon was losing the battle of wills. He wanted her. He _wanted _her. The dark fantasies of his days on Earth were suddenly so pathetic compared to this woman- this Fallen Angel.

Instead of an answer, Vergil felt a weight in his lap, and the pale skin of Aella in his sight. He meant to ask her what she was doing there, and how she had moved so fast, but he ended up crashing his lips onto hers. And she accepted him. Pressing him closer to her and opening her mouth to him without provocation. His hands were on her bare back the garment allowed and he reveled in the sensation of her skin on his. Where she touched him, fire erupted. Where he touched her, electricity short-circuited.

Then the voice in his head was back.

_I wish to be rid of this hellhole. I must use you to get to that means. You will not be without reward. I assure you. You and I will be able to leave this place and return to Earth's surface to live among mortals. _

Vergil pulled back and stared at her. If she hadn't looked so scared he would have past the whole thing off as the beginnings to his mental breakdown. But she was scared. The Fallen Angel was almost terrified as she held his searching gaze. Then he went back to kissing her. That seemed to be the conduit of the whole voice in his head thing. Did it work both ways?

_And I am supposed to believe that?_

_Yes._

Apparently so. _So you want to get out of hell and be a good little angel again? Is that it? And what do you intend to do with me?_

_I want to redeem myself. I know I may never be allowed back into… _She trailed off, like she couldn't bare herself to even say the word. _And as far as you go, I will use you to get out of here. You will be free as well, as your payment for your assistance. _

_Right. _And he could actually hear his own scoff in his mind. _How do you even intend to bust out of here in the first place?_ Aella did not answer right away; instead she pulled away from him and seriously stared at him while she panted. Vergil forgot all about the fact that he needed air, even the tainted sulfur-air, to live. He gasped and fought hard to control his erratic breathing. This mind-thing was not something he was going to get use to, and that was perfectly fine with him. Having a Fallen inside your head could cause serious damage.

Vergil took the moment to get his bearings. His hands obviously did not need the aid of conscious thought to move the garment up Aella's thighs to grip her backside. For some unfathomable reason the half-demon felt ashamed for using a woman while she was unawares, the guilt past once he reminded himself that she was a Fallen and was completely capable of defending herself. One hand was now in the woman's hair and Vergil used the leverage to bring her lips back to his.

_We aren't done yet._

_We are being watched. I have to make it look like we are not communicating through some supernatural means. _

Vergil bit her lip and suddenly pulled her down so that he hovered over her body against the dark sheets of the bed. Her legs wrapped around his waist an instant later.

_Convincing enough? _Vergil growled. _Now, tell me how you plan to accomplish this feat? _

He felt her hand rake through his hair, there were no claws, no pain. _You should not be here in this place. You are alive. I caught you because of that lone fact. My master should have let you go the moment he knew of your presence. I knew he wouldn't. You would be close under my authority. I was to take charge of your punishments. The first week was merely to please my master. But I was also testing your strength and will. You will be able to leave this place solely because you were not dead when you entered here. _

Another moan filled the visible empty room. Vergil was no longer sure made the noise now. _Okay. So, because I'm alive and have not yet died, I can get out. How do I do that? And how are you going to achieve the same? _

_All this began with a choice. _Aella pulled away from him again, and began to kiss her way down his neck, finding his collar bone and paying specific attention to it. Vergil tried to think past her cryptic words to the meaning behind them. But she was making any thought at all vanish with her touch. She had a fistful of his silver hair and her other hand was grasping his shoulder tightly. He tried to figure out where his own hands were on her body but she flipped him over and he huffed out the last of his breath when she locked her lips on his again. _I have given you my Name, have I not? I gave it in exchange for trust. You _must_ trust me Vergil. _

And even in his head the sound of his name in her voice was beautiful.

Rare things in Vergil's life were beautiful.

_Alright. So let's say, to save time, that I trust you. How am I supposed to get out of here. _

_You are mortal and demon. This place is, on some level, familiar to you. It knows you do not belong while at the same time it knows you should. There is a mirror in my master's chambers. It will get us out. _

_If you know this why haven't you used it yet?_

_Because I need a mortal who is _alive_ to open the portal. Do you know how hard those are to come by? You aren't even completely mortal! _

_Ok. Ok. So, in The Prince's room? That's going to be the hard part, isn't it?_

This time Vergil pulled away. He kissed his way down her throat now. He needed to think. He needed to be in control to do so. There was no way Vergil would be able to come up with a decent enough plan if the Fallen was in such control. The half-demon moved past her collar bone to the edge of her gray gown; it reminded him of the woman in Greece. But he was getting the feeling that he was about to create and even greater distraction than Aella's touches.

But Aella beat him to it. She grinned as she grabbed his chin. "No my pet. No. My master would not allow you to touch me so intimately." Vergil's eyes widened at her words.

"Are you his woman, then?" Why was he so bitter about that? Because that would cause a whole other galaxy of new problems.

"No. I belong to no man." Her teeth were very white and her eye-teeth were very pointed. Fallen had fangs? "It is a known fact that no lowly demon may touch a Fallen, a member of my master's army."

Vergil narrowed his eyes accusingly, "I see." It occurred to him that to those looking in on them now would be listening to the first words they spoke since Aella kissed him.

"Now, now my pet." She smoothed out his silver hair stroking it back from his face. Like a cat. Just great. Then she placed a soft kissed on his lips. There was no urgency in the kiss, only in the voice in his mind. _He will be upset with you. I warn you now. Those that are watching have seen the way you touched me. I'm sorry for the pain you will receive. _

Before Vergil could question her, she flipped them over again just as the door to the bedroom burst off its hinges. Vergil frowned at Aella right before he was lifted roughly away from her. Some unreasonable part of him fought whatever was holding him to get back to the Fallen. Then a swift kick in the gut had him sensibly subdued. Vergil crouched on the cold floor as both his arms encircled his ribcage.

"I need to take that thing with me." Vergil knew the harsh, hissing voice wasn't talking to him. So he stayed quiet.

"I am allowed a few more hours, I believe." Aella didn't sound the least bit worried. In fact, if anything she sounded _bored_.

"No you don't." The hissing snapped. "This scum is to be taken to the Master's chamber." It sounded like a gas pipe was leaking unevenly, like in short bursts. Vergil looked up to see a humanoid looking gray-green skinned man… laugh? Was it laughing?

"Oh? Why didn't he tell me? It _is_ my prisoner." Aella, although somewhat bored did look mildly insulted by the demon's laughter.

"That is debatable." The creature muttered. Then more loudly it pronounced, "The Master wishes to speak to you about the methods of this one's punishments."

"Then I will escort it to our master's chamber without a chaperone." Aella moved fluidly off the bed and moved toward Vergil, her gown flowed back down her exposed legs. The demon blocked her path. "You dare challenge me?" The Fallen scoffed without a single real threat in her voice.

"I do not, mistress of my Master." Vergil caught the flash of anger in Aella's eyes at that name. "But I have orders from our Master himself. And he outranks you, eh?" The hissing laughter grew as the demon grabbed Vergil's arm and began to drag him out of the bedroom. But before he could make a footstep, Aella had a small dagger out and held at the demon's throat.

"You will not touch my property. _Takinsh._" At the sound of his name, Takinsh froze and his slit-like red eyes widened. He dropped Vergil and took three steps away from the pair of them. The knife was gone. Just gone. No flash, no trick. Just gone. Aella grabbed Vergil in the same manner the demon had, but she gave him time to get his feet under him and began to steer him in the direction towards The Prince of Darkness's main chambers. And towards the only known means of escaping the hellhole of his fate.

**RequiemOfAFallenAngel**

His hands were bound and a black sash hid his sight. Apparently, the Prince did not like to be looked upon. And the restrictions were bothering the half-devil immensely. He couldn't sense a single damned demon in the room he had been left it. Aella had dumped him here after binding him and then took off. Did she really mean to save him? For the way things were playing out Vergil believed his escape was beyond doubtful. It could have been a ploy to giving him false hope, then crushing it like they would his entire body.

At least he could still talk. Maybe the Prince wanted to do just that. It was plausible, but not likely. For whatever reason Vergil was here, there was no good to come of it. The Fallen had said he was going to be punished for touching her. She tricked him then. But she had apologized for that. A lie? She could have lied to him. Real Angels, the ones that had not sided with the devil, could not lie any more than pureblood Devils. But demons knew loopholes. One did not live as long as Angels and Demons if one simply told the truth all the time.

Yes, she could have lied. So why did she give him her name? Why did she fill his head with her voice and speak in such secrecy? Why, why, why? Too many questions left Vergil in vulnerable territory. Someplace he rarely even wound up in.

There were footsteps coming closer. And the distinctive voice of the Fallen who threw him into this mess. She spoke respectively quiet to whoever she was speaking with. The other speaker did not say anything, but Vergil heard three sets of footsteps. Aella's, her companion, and another pair that walked slightly slower, the third set seemed off somehow. A door opened and the group filed into the room he occupied.

For an agonizing moment no one said anything. Then a sharp voice, filled with cold authority commanded that his bounding be removed. Vergil didn't have to adjust to the lighting when the sash disappeared; there was no light to adjust to. But Vergil could see in the dark and he hoped he had nothing to worry about. With a quick glance no noted that Aella was standing the farthest from him, but the closest to a mirror as tall as she was.

Not giving her subtle hint away, Vergil stared at the other two Hellians. A big black dog with red eyes and shaggy coarse fur stared back with the intelligence normal dogs did not possess. The other was a devil. Not _the_ Devil, just a high ranking, high risk devil. One that could match Vergil's strength. He had dark skin and sliver hair. Silver eyebrows arched over stone-dead gray eyes. He had a sharp nose and high cheek bones. And he looked thoroughly pissed at having to deal with Vergil.

"Fallen, explain yourself." The devil spoke. Although he was unhappy with his job at the moment, his voice did not give it away.

"I should ask what I am supposed to be explaining." Aella's voice was crisp and short, a woman unhappy about being interrupted from something she had been enjoying.

"You gave the half-breed mercy-"

"I did not such thing."

"You brought him to your bed."

"Yes."

"You allowed him to touch you."

"Yes."

"This is what you must explain."

"His punishment was not having anymore affect on him. I needed to increase his misfortune."

"And so you gave him mer-"

"I was going to allow him the taste of mercy. I would _not_ give him the real thing. I was going to let him sample the feel of a woman against him: a weakness most males ail from." She flashed a wicked smile that held no warmth to it. Vergil knew better than to let their conversation provoke him. They spoke as if he were not in the room. But the dog- the Hell Hound was keeping an eye on his every move. For now, Vergil's best defense was to allow them to speak like they were and not draw attention to himself.

"Once I gave him his weakness, I would send him back to the pits and leave him to suffer from the dream I gave him." Aella did not sound cocky or even proud of her explanation. She was rather annoyed if anything. "Does that suffice you Engar?"

The devil's muscles stiffened as she spoke his name out loud. "You are an evil woman."

"I know." She turned to the dog, "I thought I explained all of this to you."

To Vergil utter horror the Hell Hound spoke, "Yes you did Pet. But you failed to tell me you were going to fuck the half-breed." It was not normal to hear human words out of a canine's mouth. The words broke abruptly and some were never finished because the hound's jaw could not make the proper sound.

"I didn't think I had to." Aella was speaking quietly, like to an animal that might go rabid in seconds. She was afraid of the hound.

No, Vergil understood it all now; the hound was being controlled from a third party outside of the room. There weren't many beings that could scare a Fallen. One of which would never set foot in the place, the other own it.

"You are to always tell me when you are about to do something stupid." The Devil snapped, clearly displeased while the hound growled on its own.

Aella locked eyes with Vergil and for two whole seconds he felt like they were the only ones in the room. The devil and the hound faded away until there was nothing but the Fallen and the half-devil. Vergil knew when to move before the Fallen even finished her next sentence, "Like I should tell you that I'm breaking out of here and the son of Sparda is coming with me?"

They were at the mirror before the limp and very dead dark-skined devil could react. Vergil grabbed Aella and pressed her as close to his body as he could before the possessed hound could charge at them. The Fallen smashed the mirror from their side of the portal before the devil himself could scream in outrage of being tricked.

**I wanted to try a new fanfic to help relieve the stress of my other. Please let me know if I should continue this story. Tell me if you're interested. What did you like, what didn't you like? I want to know!!**


	2. Chapter 2

Life on the Outside

A cold dark night, accompanied by the tantrum of a thunderstorm brought Vergil to consciousness. He must have passed out after clearing the portal. Rain drenched his pants; it was the only clothing he wore at the moment too. So, after escaping Hell, Vergil gets a cold and dies from hypothermia… Not fucking likely…

A cry brought Vergil to acute awareness, but he relaxed his muscles when he watched Aella rush into the empty grass field. Her arms were straight out from her body and she was… laughing… The Fallen Angel was actually laughing! Not the fake snickers and dark chuckles that were expected of her, but an honest laughter that bubbled up from deep in her belly. "Rain!" She cried out to the black sky. Vergil heard her choke on the word. She was crying too.

When had been the last time she cried? There was no doubt that she never cried in that hellhole, it would have killed her. But here on Earth, under lightning and thunder, this woman could cry unabashed. Vergil took quick strides to her. He was joyously grateful to feel thick, cold drops of water fall from the sky as well. As he walked he gulped in fresh, untainted air for the first time in so very long.

Another strike of lightning streaked across the empty sky and Vergil suddenly did not want to be in such and open area. Could Angels get struck by lightning? Could Devils? They were on the run from Hell. Would heaven bring down its fury upon a traitor and a half-breed?

"We need to move." Vergil grabbed Aella's arm and hoisted her up. She somehow fell and was sitting in a puddle of mud and water. Was she going to be such a handful every time it rained?

"You don't need to worry about me any longer." She voice shuddered with excitement and her eyes shown with great joy. She was looking out to the dark emptiness that surrounded them. "You're free now, you can do whatever you like."

"Have you forgotten that they will not sit idly by while we tell of our escape from Hell?" Vergil snapped at her. "The Prince of Darkness is going to come for us. He'll send all at his disposal just to drag us back if only to prove he could." Vergil began to scan the open, empty clearing. They were so exposed here. Where was "here" anyway?

"Yes. Yes." Aella ripped her arm from his grip; he hadn't realized it became so tight. "I know very well who is going to come for us. But _you_ are mortal. There is little he can do to 'drag you back'." She huffed then began to head towards the south. "It is me the Hellions will come for. You are safe, just as I promised." Her steps were brisk as she moved away from him.

But that would do Vergil no good. He didn't even know where he was. The smart thing to do was to stick together until he got his bearings. Once that was taken care of, he'd leave her just as she wanted. Vergil doubted that his mortal blood would keep his safe from a pissed off devil. Not to mention it was _the_ Devil he was running from.

"It will not do to leave me in some foreign land where I have no means to protect myself. You seem to know where you're going though. You will lead me to familiar territory, then you are on your own. Do we have a deal?"

"Fine."

It was silent after her agreement, but for the rushing sound of rain and the clasps of thunder and lightning. Vergil could not see anything past a foot in front of him. Were they being watched? Was the Prince already on their trail? Nerves began to eat Vergil from the inside out. This was not good. Vergil did not even have his sword on him.

That would have to be his first stop then, Vergil decided. He would take what was his from that disgraceful…_ hunter_. The tricky part would be to not be seen. Too many old scars torn open at the same time could kill even a devil. Planning ahead had been Vergil's forte, as he thought about where he would go once he knew where he was Vergil felt unbelievably soothed. He was still cold though. Wearing only jeans was not smart, there had been little time to prepare for his escape so little could be done about it. First, Yamato, then a change of clothing. Vergil needed to blend into society once more, and to do so he would need more than a ragged pair of jeans.

"We are in America." Aella offered after a long period of silence. She didn't say anything else and Vergil figured he was supposed to engage her.

"That's good. I know where America is." The answered eased some tension out of Aella's shoulders. Had she been worried about him? "What are you going to do, now that you're free?" Vergil continued.

"I am not free yet." He turned to look at her and saw an ugly, rusted, metal choker around the Fallen's neck. She wasn't touching it, but her fingers hovered over the binding.

"What is that?" Vergil reached out to inspect it but a blinding pain erupted from where his fingers barely brushed the metal.

"It is my collar. You didn't see it in Hell, because _he_ didn't want you to." She didn't sound to worried about the effect it had on Vergil's touch. "It is proof of my Fall." There was nothing Vergil knew to say to that. What could he say to that?

"How do you get it off?"

"I need another Angel to unlock it, or…" She frowned

"Or what?"

"I don't remember. I'm sure it's another one of _his_ tricks."

Then a horrifying revelation hit Vergil hard, "Can the prince track you with it?" Aella stopped moving. She didn't even look like she was breathing. "Hey! Can he?" Vergil was shouting at her to get through the veil of terrified shock that immobilized her.

"I – I don't remember…"

In that very second, an invisible force sent the two of them across miles of grass before they landed hard. Aella was up first and she hissed as she held her shoulder. It looked like it was bleeding. Vergil moved much slower. Gravity was different on Earth, or perhaps it was just him getting use to the burdens all mortals carry. When he got to his feet, Aella was screaming at him. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. But he couldn't hear her exactly so he let her drag him across slippery grass and muddy hills. Something…was…chasing them.

"Shit!" Vergil cursed as his hearing came back and every noise ever made crashed into his brain. He stumbled and fell but Aella kept him steady and moving. There were several growls from behind them but Vergil couldn't look back, his center of balance was dependent on Aella for the moment. Unfortunately, the growling was growing closer and along with it was a hissing laughter. Vergil knew that laughter now. He hated it, but he knew it. And if he didn't do something about it, it would haunt his nightmares for nights! So he turned and shoved the Fallen behind him.

Takinsh, the demon that interrupted Vergil and Aella what felt like days ago, was standing behind a small pack of lessers. The lessers had six arms, all long and gangly and no distinct facial features. He could take them, all of them. Takinsh too. So what if his was missing Yamato! He didn't need it right now! The gray-skinned demon was small prey to what Vergil was accustomed to.

"A stupid thing to do, _half-breed_." Takinsh hissed at him, but Vergil barely recognize the taunt with the rain drowning out his words easily. So Vergil said nothing in return and simply punched the closest lesser as hard as he could in its vague face. And it exploded into dust. "Wh-What?!"

It felt good to kill something. Like a raging animal finally escaping its cage. It was as breath-taking as the rain had been as reviving as the fresh air. _Freedom_! Vergil took two steps to his right and let loose several furious blows to the next lesser. With a swift kick he knocked another off its human-ish feet. A shifting of his body brought him back to Aella. She wasn't standing there in shock now. The Fallen had her dagger out and Vergil noted that they were missing three more lessers than before.

They were back to back and Takinsh was screeching for their heads. Vergil preferred his hissing, less painful to his ears. Without a signal Aella was moving again, but Vergil didn't wait to watch her fight. She moved on her own, expecting Vergil to pull his weight with no aid from her. One lesser after another fell to Vergil's rapid strikes, and one by one they exploded into piles of dust that were washed away by the rain. He rarely ever teamed up in a fight. There had been a time, long ago when Vergil had trusted one individual to watch his back. But that was so long ago, he was no longer the same man as he had been at that time.

"You are going to die! The Master will hunt you down like dogs! There is no where for you to hide, Traitor of the Light!" Aella screamed at Takinsh's useless words as her dagger plunged into the demon's jugular, like it should have done when he first showed his face to Vergil. But the woman wasn't done. She couldn't stop the momentum of her first strike and she and the dead body fell to the wet ground. The dagger flashed like the lightning as Aella struck the demon repeatedly. At some point she stopped screaming, but she mutilated the corpse by then. There was nothing identifiable left of Takinsh by the time she stood.

Her backless gown was damp with purple demon blood; her long hair drowned in it. There was a violence about her that kept Vergil from going to her side. No more lessers stood to keep him occupied, but he couldn't make a move to her. Shakes in her shoulders told him she was crying, and still he made no budge. Curtains of rain impaired his vision, but her pale skin stood out in the darkness and Vergil felt a small twitch in his left hand. It would be unwise to approach her now, while she was bathed in blood and hostility. Was this what all Fallen radiated in battle? Aella was the only Fallen Vergil had known. Perhaps it would be smart if he kept it that way.

Lightning flashed and reminded Vergil they needed to start moving again. "Let's go." He commanded, though he did not grab her, nor leave her.

She flinched at the sound of his voice. "You go." Her dark voice was soft and held no spell on Vergil now like it did before. Was that because her power decreased in the mortal world?

"Come on. We made a deal, Aella."

"And I am now a danger to your freedom, Vergil."

"What do you mean?"

"Hell will not come for the mortal blood in you. Not for the reasons you think. I am a Traitor to the Light and the Darkness. There is no where for me to run to. And this…" She gestured to the collar, "This will bring them to me. If you are with me, they will not hesitate to kill you."

"We did fine just now."

"And you think _he'll_ keep sending incompetent weaklings my way?" Anger flashed in her very green eyes as she turned them on him. "You must leave me behind."

The thought had occurred to him. It had been a tempting and pleasing thought, too. As Vergil stood before the Fallen he felt disgusted with himself for even considering it. She saved him from his fate. Could he not do the same for her?

"Let me see that collar." He demanded as he finally found it within himself to walk towards her enraged form. She stood rigid and obviously unhappy with him being so close. And only hours ago she had been pressed against him so forcefully too.

The collar looked just as frail as it had moments ago. Like any one gust of wind could blow the rusted thing away. But Vergil's fingers still tingled where he had touched the damned thing. Only one metal had the properties this collar did: Brimstone. Just great…"It'll take a few days, but I know who can get rid of that thing." He said when he was done inspecting it from a safe distance. "I'll take you to him once I figure out where we are. I'll help you this once, as payment for my freedom." He didn't wait for her response. With a quick jerk he marched back the way they had been heading.

There were several seconds where he thought she was going to leave him. He turned to look back at her and found her some feet away, keeping her distance from him. For unexplainable reasons, that irked him. She had been so haughty back in the hellhole. Where did the meek maiden act come from? Where was the seductress that lured him to her bed?

Whatever the heck happened to Aella, was it something that would effect him as well. Perhaps it was some sort of transition into Earth. After… Eons of living in Hell, it would be apparent that there would be some side affects. If Vergil ever turned into a weak mortal, he'd cut off his own head and be done with the illness.

At least she succumbed to his reason. Vergil did not want to knock her unconscious and try to figure out his surroundings on his own – there were no stars to guide him tonight. An itch at the back of his skull made him turn and wait for the Fallen. She stared at him when she caught up and for a while they just stood there like that. With rain and wind raging around them, Vergil glared at her; soon she began to straighten her spine. She pushed her shoulders back and in no time, she was appeared to be looking down at him. Which was physically impossible since he was taller, but the differences in her body language were exactly what he needed of her.

There was little a meek maiden could do in a fight; a trained, hardened warrior was another matter. "You know where we are." He thrust an arm in between their bodies, "By all means, lead the way." And she moved past him without batting an eye. It was like the weakness she showed before never existed. Sometimes women were like that. One second they were about to break apart completely, the next they were acting as if it never happened.

Her shoulder was no longer bleeding. That was a good thing. Vergil did not have anything to mend a serious wound. Depending on where they were, it could take them _weeks_ to find the one who could remove the collar. Welcomed silence enveloped the two again. Without more than a pair of jeans, Vergil was beginning to feel the cold seep into his muscles. They would need shelter soon. It would do no one any good if he passed out from exhaustion and the cold, to die from hypothermia

"There is an abandoned cabin near by." Aella said calmly as she eyed the trees to her left. Why hadn't they walked through the trees? There would have been more protection from the rain and they would not be so exposed to possible attacks. She may have had reasons, they could've reached anywhere between the fact that it didn't matter how deep into the forest they were if the demons were tracking her by the collar, to the idea that she just wanted to feel the rain on her skin for a little longer. Vergil was too tired to care at the moment.

"How far?" He asked. His voiced sounded so raw. He was so _thirsty_.

"Not too much farther. You will need to sleep. I will take the first watch."

"No. You need as much rest as I do."

"You don't know that."

"Maybe I do. You will be useless to me tomorrow if you pass out on me." They were quiet as the impasse settled over them. Vergil would win this one. He doubted she could actually stay up all night anyway. It was when they reached the cabin she spoke again.

"If the both of us are asleep, who will watch for demons?"

"There will be no ambushes." He felt her eyes on him as he moved into the dark shelter. "The prince has all the time he wishes to come kill us. He doesn't know I can get that collar off you." He stretched out his tired and tense body. The pain was not the worse in his life. Now that he visited Real Pain, very little would feel like the worst in his life.

"And what if you are wrong?" She was on the other side of the cabin, still keeping her distance. Her cold, springtime eyes cut him down.

"Tell you what, if I am wrong and an ambush of demons drags us to Hell in our sleep, then I'll let you say 'I told you so,' ok?" She apparently did not find his humor contagious. When a vile shiver raided through his body, Vergil no longer wanted to talk to this Fallen.

Warm hands stopped him from hitting the dusty floor and a soft voice hushed him from half-felt protests. Aella was touching him for the first time since they arrived on Earth. The half-devil had been foolish to think the Fallen lost her ability to seduce him anymore. The pull was no less strong than back at the cave-like bedroom. It flooded his bloodstream with wants and needs his body was too weak to act upon. However, that did not prevent him from drawing her as close as he could.

Fire rushed over his skin where it touched hers. It was almost too much, but he had been so cold and it was utter bliss to feel something besides bitter pain invade him. Somewhere in his consciousness, Vergil was aware they were on the floor, her body stretched against the length of his. A sigh was ripped from his throat.

"Sleep Vergil." The Angel commanded gently. Her hand was in his hair and he realized he defiantly liked the feeling a great deal more than he should.

"You too." He muttered but his eyes were already closing and the vision of a drenched woman against him was his last for the night.

Aella stared at Vergil as he slept. His arms were wrapped so securely around her waist she doubted she could detach herself without a fight. Her body was a wreck. The little warmth Vergil's body could emit in his state was welcomed.

"I should not be enjoying this." She said out loud in the empty and dark expanse. There was only the one room in the cabin and they were settled against the wall farthest from the door. If any nightly creatures chose to use a door, she'd at least see them before they killed her.

She glanced at the man beside her again. Vergil's behavior was becoming a problem. He was either greatly annoyed by her presence all together, or he was urging to jump her bones. The later was only because she was touching him. Even in the human realm she would need to isolate herself. Fallen Angels were living, breathing temptation; there would little to save Vergil from her touch. At least he passed out before he forced himself on her.

"Who are you kidding?" She'd _let_ him jump her, there wouldn't be any force necessary. Her attraction to the half-breed was growing to become a dilemma she couldn't afford. Too much time in the hole sucked most of her primitive desires out of her. The sensation of a man craving her was not new; it shouldn't affect her how Vergil touched her. But it _did _affect her. Right now it caused warmth to spread from her stomach through her bloodstream to fill every inch of her insides. Temptation could work both ways, and Vergil might become her undoing.

Back in the bed chamber too, the desire to take this half-breed to the farthest reaches of abysmal bliss had been great. She needed to focus, but all she wanted was him, in very possible way. If she had allowed her senseless desires to ruin her actions, she would still be stuck in the hole and Vergil would be dead.

Rain pelted the sagging rooftop. Sleep was so close she could feel her body growing slack. In Vergil's arms Aella felt the unreasonable sensations of being safe. How could he protect her from demons in the state he was in? How could she feel _safe_ with him in this one moment?

He had been wrong about the Devil's involvement. _He_ did _not_ have all the time _he_ wished. That stunt they pulled to get out of Hell would cost the Devil a hole in _his _pride. If just for the sake of proving _he_ could, _he_ would drag the two of them back to Hell as soon as possible. Vergil was no safer than she had thought he'd be. But he was putting himself at unnecessary risks by staying with her. Escaping Hell was his death warrant. No amount of precaution could protect him now.

The chances of his survival were larger if he left her though. Aella glared half-heartedly at the man beside her. He was a fool for not leaving her when he had the chance. Even if he didn't know where he was, she doubted that would stop this man from surviving. It was a pathetic excuse. Why did he lie to her?

With the offer to be rid of the collar so close she could taste her freedom, Aella would not allow Vergil to leave now. Not until she received her payment would she let him go. Possessiveness was a bad habit all Angel ailed from. Right now, Vergil was her property. Until the time she deemed acceptable, the man would not be gone from even her sight.

Sleep claimed the Fallen right after her resolved set in. She did not dream and her body settled closer to the body warmth and false protection the son of Sparda supplied.


	3. Chapter 3

**RequiemOfAFallenAngel**

The cold seeped into Aella's blood and brought her back to awareness rather painfully and frustratingly. When she opened her eyes she found the gray dawn filling the one room from a partially open door. And no Vergil to be found.

"Dammit." The Fallen muttered to herself as she stretched her slightly aching muscles. She lived in Hell, very little could cause her Real Pain. With rushed steps she burst through the door, scaring a fox off, and began to inspect the perimeter of the cabin. Still no Vergil. "Where did he run to?" She asked the chilly morning air. The soil was damp under her bare feet, the evidence of the rain from last night. She stopped and sucked a deep breath of the morning in. It was truly wonderful.

A sudden splash reached Aella's sensitive ears and she made her way to follow the noise. Bubbling began to grow the closer Aella reached the source of the splash, a rushing sound like running water. She slowed her pace and opted for stealth than for speed at the moment. Scaring a wild animal into a frenzy would not be wise. Most animals knew what she was, though. So perhaps she didn't have to worry.

Vergil's pristine back greeted Aella when she rounded a tall oak. It was such an unexpected sight she had to slap her hand over her mouth and hide behind the oak before Vergil realized she found him. He paused in his bathing but continued a moment later, deeming whatever he heard as unthreatening. With a deep breath, Aella turned to look upon Vergil's perfection again. She had done a stupendous job of not paying close attention to his body when she tried to seduce him in Hell, and again last night when she could have easily done so while his was incapacitated.

Of course, during both times there had been other, more important facts she distracted herself with. In Hell, her fight for her freedom pressed upon her thoughts with greater force than Vergil and last night, she had been too exhausted to care about investigating his body. Now, there were no sudden, pressing facts other than the one that was currently naked in a river that reached its waist. The same warm feelings from last night invaded Aella's muscles. The feeling she labeled "safe" was now thriving inside her as she openly stared at Vergil washing himself.

How in the name of the Fallen was that "safe?"

For unfathomable reason she was glimpsing the man as if she were a blushing virgin. There were few moments in her life where Aella found males attractive and even rarer were the moments when she found males beautiful.

Vergil was perfect.

From his silver demon hair, to his sharp blue eyes, to his aristocratic nose, to his hard chest and solid back, to his toned stomach and fine waist. There were little white scars scattered over his flesh, and even these Aella found to be perfect. Little could be done to stop herself from lusting for this man's body. But as she scrutinized it, Aella sought for other means that separated this male from others. She was not so vain as to become fascinated with a half-breed solely for his appearance.

It could have been his voice. Yes, his voice, that was commanding and arrogant while in the face of defeat and inviting in the company of a woman, could have triggered her attraction. From the first moment she met him, he showed her all of these aspects in his rough, low voice. When she found him in the farthest circles of Hell, he had been weak and was still radiating challenges to her. But when she spoke to him, he had succumbed to the primitive needs she coaxed within him.

His will was rather superb when compared to most males she had known. Demon, Devil, Fallen, and Angel alike seemed dimmer when Aella stood them against this one man. It wasn't his blood that gave him a will like that. It was exclusively from him alone that his will was born. It didn't matter who his parents were. With a will like that, he had stolen her interests, along with those in Hell that should not be interested.

It was more than his body she lusted for. This man, this half-breed, Vergil was a man that she wanted to have and to keep. Never had the hunger for such a man ever befell her.

"Is there something you need, Aella?" With one question he had her complete – if horrified for being caught staring – attention. There was no arrogance to his tone. Maybe being found bathing by a woman was not uncommon to him. Or maybe the man simply had no shame.

"Are you hurt?" She couldn't think of anything else to say other than to keep from being found out of her sudden possessive thoughts.

"No. Why do you ask?" He was gazing at her with heated blue eyes. Maybe he was bothered by her presence.

"You seem to be favoring your right side." His eyes widened. How could she not have noticed? She had been inspecting him so thoroughly, of course she noticed.

"Do I? Are you sure?" His hands were twitching. Calling out his weakness was something that annoyed him. Interesting… That might be important for her in the future.

"I am."

"How can you tell?"

"You won't turn all the way to wash your back. Did I not heal it suitably?"

"No. You healed it sufficient enough." He was facing her completely now.

"Then what is wrong?"

"One of the lessers…" He narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"Let me see it." She slipped without any thought to the edge of the river. Running water had no effect on Angels, Fallen or otherwise. But she did not want to invade his personal space without consent. The man didn't even want to speak the words that he got mauled by a lesser.

Vergil hesitated as he watched her move closer to the river. She probably wasn't even aware how graceful she was. Her long, dark, red hair shimmered in the dull morning light. He was going to have to be careful not to look at her when the sun was out. The consequences of doing so could be fatal. She was a dangerous distraction.

When he woke up wrapped up in her embrace, the absence of revulsion in him was shocking. He had _never_ been with anyone so intimately. Vergil couldn't bring himself to trust any one being so fully before. There was trust to be said between two people who slept together. Not in the sexual sense, but in the innocence of merely sleeping. There had never been a soul he could trust enough to let all his defenses go and rely on them to not slit his throat as he slept.

"Vergil," She was demanding him to come to her in that light voice of hers. As if she could care less either way. But Vergil didn't move. It was like back in her bedroom. There was little control he owned when he was within touching distance of her.

She sighed as if she were dealing with a stubborn child before she slid into the water and waded downstream towards him. Her gown flowed and undulated with the soft current, it looked like apart of the river. The urge to grab hold of the material and pull her against him was stronger than Vergil was ready for. But with practiced force, he shoved the thought to the back of his mind. Later it would come for him when he was least expecting it, but for now the desire was repressed. How much longer could he fight her spell? How long until he forced himself on her?

Soft feminine hands brushed against his shoulders as Aella moved next to his right side. Not. Bloody. Long. "Show me." She said, indifferent and imposing all at once.

Vergil didn't resist her this time. He pulled his right arm across his chest to show a long, inflamed gash reaching from his first rib to the edge of his waist. Lesser wounds were not serious, but Vergil had no energy to spare last night to heal it. It was the infection that could kill. When he woke, his second thought had been to find running water and cleanse the wound by hand. There were properties to running water in the supernatural world that were helpful and hurtful.

Vergil stared at the Fallen as she examined the mark like a physician, devoid of emotions. Avoiding close range distance to this woman had been his first thought. And already, not an hour later, his resolve was crumbling, fragment by fragment. In annoyance, he wondered if the Fallen knew he didn't have his jeans on. She must have, she passed them on her way to the river.

"The infection is not bad. Why didn't you heal it?" Her question, though bothersome, was a much needed distraction.

"I didn't have the energy to do so last night. And this morning, I decided I needed to conserve what energy I gained."

"So, you figured the water alone would flush out the infection?" Her condescending tone brought a frown to his face as he eyed her.

"Running water can heal some of my wounds."

"Only if you can tap into the water's energy. Very rarely will water allow devils to."

"You forget I am only half devil."

"Mortals do not possess the requirements."

He sighed. "I am not normal Aella." She glared at him accusingly. "I am only half devil; my mortal half means nothing in situations like this." When she still looked as if she did not understand, Vergil leaned in closer to her. "Because I am not normal the water reacts better to my pull."

She scoffed and it melted into a laugh that brought the unwelcome dark thoughts from the back of his mind to the forefront. He was so close, too close. With one move he could refresh his memory of the taste of her lips again. It would be too fast for her to counter. She was laughing so freely, with her eyes closed, and her hands on his injury. There would be nothing to stop him.

But at the same time, Vergil didn't want to disrupt her beautiful laughter. It wormed inside his ears and implanted itself on his brain. He would never be rid of its haunting musical quality.

"What is so funny?" He growled as he tried to govern his wild thoughts. She shook her head, unable to answer as she laughed at him. He merely gave her an unidentifiable growl and she stared at him with glowing eyes. Light danced in her eyes.

"You say it's because you are not 'normal' that the water gives you its energy."

"It's true."

"I do not doubt you." She smirked at him and her lips were all he could focus on as they shaped words. "It sounds silly to me. That's all. Like the water can relate to your abnormalcy."

"That is not a word," was all he said. Watching her lips proved to be a poor choice in tactics.

"Isn't it?" She didn't care one way or the other as she went back to his wound. A fuzzy feeling, like his muscles fell asleep, ran along his right side. It wasn't unpleasant, but it did unsettle him when it came without warning. The infection was gone a moment later and the feeling passed.

"What did you do?" He gritted through clenched teeth, his inner battle proceeding unknowingly to the woman.

"I sped the healing. I can communicate with the water's energy flow as well." She glanced at him and her eyes narrowed as she finally recognize where his mind was. Unfortunately it was too late. Vergil swooped down swiftly and captured her lips with his before she could move away from him. His tongue slid against her lips and when she didn't open he bit her lower lip lightly and he gripped her chin with one hand to keep her from running. Still she gave no permission.

But that left Vergil undisturbed. He _would _have her eventually. He pressed demanding kisses against her jaw as he rubbed his hips against hers. A sharp gasp filled his ears and Vergil cursed himself for not using the gasp to his advantage and to invade her enticing mouth. With renewed vigor, Vergil moved against her neck and feverishly bit and suckled her skin. When he grabbed her hands to force her to participate, he realized she had them fisted at her sides.

That was not what he wanted. He made a primal sound against her neck in frustration and it broke whatever weak resolved she had strained to control. One hand scraped down his bare arm and the other gripped a fistful of his thick hair. It wasn't painful, but it brought an awareness of how urgent she was to have him. His own hands were now pressed against her bare back and pushing her body against his, he wanted to feel every inch of this woman.

Vergil detached from her neck and was pleased to see a red and inflamed mark there. Aella's grip in his hair became is his disadvantage as she brought his lips to hers again. She moaned as her tongue touched his and started a heated battle for dominance. A small vibration began in her body as her hunger grew ten-fold when she had her first intimate taste of Vergil.

At the same time, a nasty roar echoed throughout the forest and brought painful awareness to the man and woman who were locked in one another's tight embrace. Loud thumping sounds of giant footsteps forced Aella to push Vergil away and for Vergil to pry Aella's hands off him. They didn't even have time to glare at each other as the sound of a building being demolished reached their ears. The cabin made terrible noises as whatever was attacking it smashed the thing to splinters. The roar sent Vergil racing for his pants. If a demon were going to attack him, he didn't want to be caught – for lacking any originality – with his pants down.

And as soon as the zipper was closed a nasty troll-demon made its way into his view. It was not a pretty sight; troll-demons in general were as ugly as ugly gets. It looked like a part of the landscape, vaguely. Its arms and legs were made of rotting trees stumps. Its fingers were limp and slimy algae. Its head was stone, covered in fungus that made it appear decaying. It whole body was wrapped in dead plants and it wore some of it like a toga. The fact that it was almost as tall as the trees probably would become a problem to Vergil's health.

"Dammit." He snarled under his breath. What had that Fallen done to him? She hexed him again, like she had done in Hell. Was she trying to get him killed? Troll-demons were not like lessers. Although Vergil had fought a couple in his time, he would still need Yamato to bring it down.

"Traitor of the Light!" the troll-demon roared. "Show your disgraceful face! I have come for you Traitor!"

Vergil scoured for Aella. Where had she gone? When Vergil went for his clothing, he had not paid any attention to where the Fallen went. He blamed his inattentiveness to lack of fighting with a partner for most of his life. There was a gurgling sound from behind him and Vergil turned to find the water _boiling_!

"I'm down here, you big oaf!" The woman called from in the middle of the chaos in the river. Like a demented Venus, she stood her ground clashing sights with the demon. With a flick of her wrists the water began to _move_ toward her opponent. She spread her fingers then quickly her hands mirrored blades as the water zigzagged through the air until it hit the demon straight in the mouth. She did not stop, she turned her whole body and with a swift twist, she sent another strike into the monster's mouth. Then again, and again, and again. Until there was nothing but ankle-deep clear water trickling in a small creek.

The troll-demon fell and struggled to breath. Running water had two properties in the supernatural world. _I can communicate with the water's energy flow as well_. The Fallen had wielded the water like a whip. With it, she _drowned_ a troll-demon!

Vergil stared and didn't care how foolish he looked. He had been moronic to think of the woman as anything less of a threat. How could he allow her to touch him, or to allow himself to sleep against her? It shouldn't have matter how tired he was, or how strong her spell. Never again would he give into his lust for this dangerous woman. He shoved every last dark desire he owned into the farthest reaches of his mind. With a will like his, he would not be ensnared again.

As most of the water returned to the river, it seeped from the dead demon's body like blood, Aella moved to leave her stand. She slipped and hissed at the river floor before getting up and coming for him. Again she tripped, and again she hissed at the ground. Was she hurt? Should he care? Right before the woman made it to the edge where water met land Aella cried out as she fell. Her hands raked into the grass as… the water… _pulled her back in_.

"Let go!" She screamed. Vergil ran to her but halted before he got within touching distance. It was definitely the water. It was a transparent binding around her ankle and it was definitely dragging her into a whirlpool where Aella had stood moments ago. "Let me go!"

Anger crashed through every last defense the half-devil created. He still needed her, dammit. He couldn't allow some pissed off stream to have her. Where would he be if she left him now? What was she thinking? What was she _doing_ to him!?

Aella glared at Vergil with every fiber of hatred she possessed as he simply stared at her as the water pulled her another inch towards its whirlpool. What was he doing? Was he going to leave her? Why did that sting her insides so much? No matter, she didn't need him. Using her anger to fuel her actions, she grabbed the root of a nearby oak and tried to gather an amount of leverage. But the root gave way as if the river told it to. Out of frustration and not fear, Aella screamed at the water again. No, she was _not_ afraid of some pissed off stream!

It hadn't been made to fight. It was insulted with her right now. She hadn't asked to use it to fight off the troll-demon, one she didn't know the name of. Without hesitation she has simple gave the river fair warning and wielded it to destroy the demon from the inside out. And the running water had not taken being man-handled kindly. And because Aella had not asked for its permission, like when she had to heal Vergil, the water was taking its due credit.

She glared at the man merely feet in front of her. It was his fault she was in this mess. Yes the demon had come for her, but if she had not been so _sidetracked_ she would have been able to think of another means to kill the demon. So, he owed her!

"Help me, you idiot!" She snapped and was pleased he jolted from her order. He rushed to her, blue eyes blazing with barely leashed fury and grabbed her wrist a second later.

"She's _mine_!" Vergil hissed, his voice deadly low. Danger dripped from his words and Aella felt the water shiver. It turned icy cold instantly in response to him. "_Mine_!" Another shiver, then the water slipped back into fluid liquid and slithered back once again becoming a harmless river. The whirlpool dissipated, the water looked as calm and inviting as it had when Aella fist found Vergil bathing in it.

The half-breed pulled her up by her wrist alone until her feet hit the ground. He turned, stalking off as he left her in a state of shocked silence. The water made a small gurgle and Aella stuck her tongue at it before she ran to catch up with Vergil.

"_MINE?"_ Where did _that_ come from? He owed her an explanation for that. But since he had done the rescuing, did he owe her anything? Surely that merited something from him, people didn't just say "mine" and not mean anything by it? Devils _definitely_ didn't exclaim "mine" and not mean anything harmless by it…

As she stared at Vergil's bare back, Aella wanted to claw at it and leave it bloody and raw. Where did this guy get off? Who did he think he was, laying claim to her? She was a Fallen Angel for the love of God! No one wanted a Fallen!

"Hey!" She shouted, unable to take his silence. He turned quickly and had the Fallen pinned by her shoulders to a tree in a matter of seconds! His face was inches away from hers, his bright eyes could have seared her raw, his sneer was filled with venom. The tree cracked against the force he exerted.

"What?" That low, dangerous voice slid against her soul. She could feel the cold fury in that voice down deep in her bones. He was the Son of Sparda. He was a half-devil. He was hazardous to her health. The darkness in her blood boiled in his presence. Aella tried, vainly to quell the raging emotions within her. In one instant she wanted him beneath her, then she wanted to rip his head off, then she was trembling as he spoke one word to her. "Aella."

She couldn't think with him unleashing such power. He had been on lockdown in Hell. Here, where his energy replenish with little effort, she witnessed a glimpse of the Devil he could become. "What did you mean?" It was a relief there were no Fallen near. Her voice actually quivered.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You lay a claim on me!" She snapped and was internally grateful the quiver disappeared.

"I did no such thing."

"Liar. Do not avoid this, Vergil."

He growled and it was feral and powerful. His demonic power was great and it was wild. She tasted it in her next breath. "Until I am free of you, I cannot have you die on me." His grip changed. The hand on her shoulder slipped down her bare arm, leaving a trail of fire, before he stopped at the curve of her hip.

Vergil stood there with one hand on her, holding her still. The glow in his eyes dimmed to a mild shimmer, but they were no less intense. His demonic essence obediently calmed and settled inside his soul. Not a sound surrounded them. Not a breathing being disturbed them. A Fallen Angel and a half-devil stood before one another as their breaths mingled and auras smeared.

Aella could feel something terrible intertwining the two of them. Her urge to kiss him was powerful, but she saw Vergil for what he was. In one move he could swallow her whole. It didn't matter what her origin was, this man was that frightening. And she had thought him to be "safe." Maybe she truly was loosing her mind.

"I belong to no man." It was a vain attempt to gain some control.

"I am not just a _man_."

"I do not belong to devils either."

"Until I get that collar off, you will not die."

"I wouldn't have died anyway. But you do not own me."

He scoffed and very slowly pulled away from her, "Fine. You do not belong to me." But he merely said that to amuse her, it was in his voice. What had he done? Aella was too afraid to ask him. She moved smoothly from the wounded tree, keeping her complete attention on Vergil.

"Where is the one who can free me?" Suddenly there was more pushing her towards freedom now. She needed to be rid of Vergil before he became the death of her. That thought scared Aella more than any other. Where would she go if she died now?

"In the Land of No Name." He wasn't looking at her. The man's body was turned away form her now. The old title brought some clarity. She knew of the Land and she knew where she needed to go to open a portal to it. Who could Vergil possible be aquatinted with in the Land of No Name?

"It is a two day hike from here." Was it a coincidence? What were the odds the one who could destroy her collar would be so close to the Devil's portal? Angels, by default, did not believe in coincidences.

Apparently neither did half-devils, "Two days? Gestoff is only two days from us?" Demanding anger laced his words as he began to stalk off. She figured the heated words were not for her, and chose to ignore the man.

She never heard of any Gestoff. He couldn't be moral though, Vergil didn't seem like the type to associate with mortals on first-name basis. Of course he looked harmless enough while he had been bathing earlier. Quickly Aella shoved her thoughts on that scene far from her mind. She would not think of this man as a man any longer. He was a devil. He was the Son of Sparda. He might kill her if she gave him the chance.

For now, they were at an impasse. There would be little profit in killing the other. She needed Vergil alive to get her to this Gestoff. Vergil would not kill her because she freed him from Hell. That was a pretty big favor to pay back. Even if Aella never asked for anything in return from Vergil, he would still need to mark the game tied.

They did not speak for several hours. Soon small townhouses came into view. They would stand out too much in public. Vergil brought too much attention to himself just by breathing. Aella's clothing called for second-glances. Of course it wasn't the mortal world they needed to hide from. Hellions did not look with their eyes; they only needed their lust for blood to lead them to their prey. Perhaps blending in would be counterproductive in the long run anyway. If they mingled to well, the Hellions might mistake the mortals for them.

Without having to say anything to him, Vergil began to skirt around the town. So, the half-devil was able to assess her every thought. Hopefully it was because he was observant and not because he could actually get inside her mind. Funny, back in the river they hadn't shared a single thought… Aella again proceeded to shove the idea far from her mind.

By late afternoon Vergil was beginning to feel the effects of not eating for months at a time. He was starving. And he finally knew what that felt like too. His stomach never made a sound but it cramped up big time when he was ravishingly hungry. There had been many small towns like the first one they passed today. He wanted to leave as little trail behind him on his way to Gestoff. If any demon figured out where they were heading, Gestoff would kill him. If the demon hit-men didn't beat him to the punch first.

There was a dirt path he took; off to the side as the sun began to set, he found an inn. The smells of firewood and broth filled his sensitive nose. It was glorious. His body screamed for the comforts of the mortal world. But Vergil did not let his body rule him. Money would be needed in the inn. Money that he did not possess.

The Fallen made a small sigh. She had been gratefully quiet during their hike. Sometimes she would lead and sometimes he did, but they never made a sound to each other. Not since he snapped and attacked her in the forest. Reluctantly he turned slightly towards her. She was poised at attention with her eyes closed as she deeply inhaled the homey scents of the inn. Was she as hungry as he? This Fallen would cause more alarm than he would. Her gown was uncalled for and her red hair fell to her knees. No practical woman wore such formal attire and left her hair so long. Aella did not belong, and it was almost painfully obvious. That collar of hers wasn't exactly a family heirloom either.

"You think we can stop, for a bite?" She sounded so hopeful. It physically hurt him to deny her of food. That was so messed up, too. Why did he have to feel bad for saying no? He wasn't talking to a child or anything.

"I don't have money to pay for food or lodging." He snarled as he began moving away from the inn. His tightened muscles in his stomach cursed him for each step.

"Money?" He turned back to see if she were jerking him. She wasn't.

"Payment." He tried again. She looked at the inn and back at him. "I need to give the innkeeper something for food or lodging. Like a trade." Why was he talking so commonly with her again?

"Oh. And you give these people money for their services?"

"Yes."

"Would they take something else?"

"Perhaps." He began walking away, not bothering if she would follow him or not. She didn't have any choice but to do so. "If it's worth the same or more."

"Would they take this?" Her voice compelled him to stop and fully face her now. She held her intricate dagger in one hand out to him, as if she were going to offer it to him.

"You shouldn't barter with your only weapon." Vergil said immediately.

"It isn't my only weapon. My powers are sealed away, much like your own were. Once the collar is off, then I'll receive most of them back. The dagger is my weakest of weapons. It was the only one _he_ allowed for me to keep." She glared at the weapon, as if it were the cause of all her misery. Vergil strode up to her. He held out his hand and she placed the blade on his palm carefully.

"Won't something unfortunate happen if you give a Fallen-made weapon to mortals?" The hilt was made of solid gold. It would pay for the inn expenses for years, maybe decades – depending on what year it was.

"It is human-made." She said simply. He offered the dagger to her and she grabbed the hilt. He raised an eyebrow. "It was an offering that I accepted long ago. It has fulfilled its purpose thrice over. I no longer have need for it." Sadness tinted her words, but there was truth there.

"Then it will suffice as a payment. You can stay here. I will try to find us suitable clothing-"

"I will be able to trade for food for you as well, yes?" If Vergil didn't know any better he would have thought she was angry with him.

"Yes, there would be enough from your dagger to let the both of us live here for years."

"Then you will eat with me. I can't have you passing out from hunger tomorrow on me. Can I?" She smirked. She. Smirked. The Fallen smirked at him as if they weren't in the middle of a forced companionship that could ultimately kill the both of them. Or worse, have the both of them end right back at the beginning. How did she do that? Back at the river, she had laughed openly with him, and now she was jesting with Vergil.

"Fine." He growled.

"Also," She was still smirking, one side of her lips tilted up higher than the other, and her springtime eyes shimmered with mirth, "if it is my payment, then you are my guest." Her playful smirk effortlessly flowed into a wicked grin, showing all her white teeth. "So you need to act a bit more civil towards me."

"Like Hell I'll-"

"You will." And with the way she said it, she knew damn-well he would treat her civilly. But how was he supposed to that, in order to keep himself safe from her hexes, he created leagues of distance. Now, in such a short time, she destroyed all his hard efforts. What did she truly want of him?

"Fine. But only until tomorrow, when the bargain is void."

She eyed him, "Deal." She held her hand out to him. He grasped it without hesitation. When he had her hand securely in his he pulled her close enough for him to whisper in her ear, "We _will_ have separate rooms."


	4. Chapter 4

The Land with No Name

In a cold dark room there was one man hanging from the ceiling by chains on his wrists and neck. He had dark silver hair that was tattered and knotted and fell over his shoulders in clotted waves down to his bare thighs. There were large chunks of his naked body missing as he waited for the footsteps to finally reach him, and worms moved his sickly flesh as they ate away what was left of the once proud Sparda.

When the door creaked open loudly in the room, Sparda tilted his head toward the noise. "Ah." He said as if he eyes burned from their sockets could see his visitor, "It's been awhile, Mephistopheles. I was beginning to wonder when your last visit was." No one answered him but a small smile remained on his lips. "I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me."

"How is it that you still do not scream?" A cold voice asked with hatred dripping off of every word. The man wore a crisp business suit and shiny black shoes. His black hair was slicked back and two red horns protruded from his forehead. Black ink filled his eyes in completely as they glared heatedly at the prisoner. The Devil held up one hand and the worms fell dead at the floor of the room. The prisoner didn't even show a hint of relief.

"Maybe I'm broken?" Sparda offered as he dropped his head from the effort of holding it up. He began to chuckle good-naturedly as if they were speaking about the weather and not his torment.

"You know, one of your sons came to visit me." The Devil commented, skipping right to the point. He sounded as if it were not a big deal, but his anger boiled and his pale flesh began to turn a charred black.

"Oh?" Sparda inquired with as much laid back feeling in his voice and one better: his body language gave away nothing. "Which one?"

The Devil gritted his perfect white teeth. "Which one do you think was here?" He goaded the once proud devil into reveling the half-breed's true name. If Sparda uttered his sons' names out loud, then whoever heard him utter them would have power over his sons. The Devil desperately wanted that power.

But Sparda was clever and only laughed at the Devil, something it hated a great deal. "Tell me how he escaped, and then I'll know which one it is." He tried for a nonchalant shrug but the sound of the chains clanging together caused the relaxed movement to fall flat.

"One of my own got him out."

"Ha! One of the Fallen helped my son!" Sparda cried out in glee and it echoed in the cold isolated room. "That must make you look truly foolish."

Without answering the devil's jabs, The Devil lifted a hand at his prisoner and the holes began to fill in. "Now, the name of your son. If you give it to me, I will give you peace."

The devil's change was a tangible thing, it was dark and feral and protective of his sons. "Don't spit your venom at me." Sparda snarled. It was the first sign of hostility the man showed since his visitor graced him with its presence. "You will not have any power over my sons."

The Devil turned and left Sparda hanging in the dark room as the door on the other side open and a dog the size of a truck walked in. The three headed pet of Hell howled in delight before it seized one of Sparda's arms and took off back into its cage. The devil did not scream once.

**RequiemofaFallenAngel**

Twenty-five hours, they had been stuck at the inn for twenty-five _agonizing_ hours. Vergil hadn't been awake for the first ten, but that didn't matter. He did not want to be here for another second! If only he was given the choice. Because _she _was the one with the dagger, and because _she_ was the one who bartered their stay, and because _she _was the one who threatened to leave him for dust if he hadn't already proven his worth to her.

Worth… Yeah, something like that.

It was possible to find Gastoff, but whether he would take the collar apart or not was entirely up to him. Who would help a Fallen? That was probably what he'd ask Vergil when they got there. To the Land with No Name, the old-timey creatures created the most peculiar names. And it would be in this Land that they would find Gastoff, Vergil even knew where to open the gate so they wouldn't have to navigate the fickle Land. The landscape tended to have a mind of its own; switching your location on you in the blink of an eye, forcing you into a cave that opened at the beginning of your journey, replacing the sun and stars to keep you turning in circles, to name a few.

Why was he so eager to return to such a place? It hadn't been appealing as a teenager; it was definitely not appealing now. But he owed her. When that collar disappeared, so would he. Definite and thorough, exactly how he operated. Gastoff might question his motives, but Vergil was sure he would eventually coincide with the Fallen. _She _seemed to have a way with people.

Which was precisely how they winded up stuck in the inn for twenty hours longer than Vergil had planned. The simple townsfolk could not get enough of her. When the two of them showed up last night, they had immediately accommodated all of her and Vergil's needs. The low-classed citizens ate up their disorganized appearances and began to gossip the instant their backs were turned. The most recent and favorable was that Vergil was her illegal lover and the two of them were fleeing the nearby city because she was about to be forced into a loveless marriage. It was preposterous!

The Fallen feed them every lie they ate.

_She_, the bane of his existence, actually enjoyed the rumors.

Even now, while they sat at a table in the dinning room together, she would speak softly to him and look down at him every now and then. Like she was _above_ him! If she kept up this reckless folly, Vergil would have to maim her.

And he wasn't even sure why it was pissing him off to begin with!

Why were the rumors getting to him? Why was the Fallen's light-hearted attitude so infuriating? Why wasn't he sleeping in his lone room while she stayed in the one right next to him? What had she done to him while he wasn't looking?

He shifted uncomfortably in the attire the Fallen had provided him. She had plenty of money to spend and there was little to complain about, at least he was clean and wearing decent clothes. New jeans, hiking boots, a dark gray T-shirt and a plaid flannel over-shirt. He was not in his normal skin by any means, but it was several steps up from where he had been last night.

She giggled girlishly as she held the back of her hand to her mouth. Preposterous. Who could force the woman to do anything?

No, not woman. This was a Fallen. A master of trickery. She could deceive him as easily as she could spread a rumor. He had been her plaything in Hell, here he was a tool. She was no woman, she was evil and she could do him harm.

And because _she_ paid for everything, _she_ said _she_ didn't want to leave yet. Vergil had slept until noon, and by the time the Fallen gave him his new clothing _she_ had decided to camp here one more night. Though it was _she_ who wanted the collar off so damn badly, Vergil could do little to force her to do anything. He had already tried. And she had ignored him. That's it! She simply decided she wasn't going to talk to him for the rest of the day. She sat next to him and followed him around, but she never said a word to him nor acknowledged anything he said to her! And it infuriated him unreasonably to no end!

"Tomorrow at dawn, we will leave." She finally whispered to him as he finished his dinner.

"_Now_ you want to leave? What was wrong with this morning?"

"You and I were asleep."

"Then what about this afternoon?"

"I needed to get us a change of clothing."

"And right now? What is possible wrong with right now?"

"The prince will be stronger at night, a time which mortal man fears. It would be wise to travel by day; dawn is the safest."

And just like that, _she _was able to shut him up and leave him with his seething anger. How did she do it? With a flick of her hand the Fallen sent her long braid over her shoulder. She should have cut it off but she seemed hesitant to do so, like leaving this inn. She stood to go to her room and Vergil, without any thought, did the same. He wasn't following; there was little else to be done downstairs with dinner out of the way. She also mentioned dawn. Vergil needed sleep, since it eluded him for the past night. It was a restless sleep. He'd be out for a few minutes or maybe an hour, then he'd be wide awake for no reason at all.

As they traveled up the stairs to their respected rooms, he assessed her attire. The Fallen's outfit was more acceptable, but it would be difficult for a creature like her to blend in at any time. She wore faded, loose jeans and a dark brown shirt. Her hiking boots were almost identical to his own. She bought them both new jackets that would keep them dry if it rained again and a small backpack that held the Fallen's old gown. It was like her hair, she refused to part with it.

As she turned into her room, Vergil followed at the last second. He slipped through right before she closed the door and he seeped into the shadows. Why he did this, he could never say. It was like his body was driven on autopilot. What was he thinking?

She shoved her shoes off and her shirt was next before Vergil had time to prepare himself. Now she was wearing a bra, which she had not used with her old gown. For one horrifying second Vergil wondered if she was going to take it off too. And why was he horrified? Again, all answers eluded him.

"Do you make it a habit of peeping on a woman you are unhappy with?" Aella said with her back to him. She busied herself with unraveling her braid. Silence answered her. Damned man. Did he always act like such a child?

"I see no woman here." His rough, low voice called out from the shadows. Well, if that didn't sting her to the bitter end. Not a woman? Was he always such a prick too?

"Is that so?" She finally turned toward him, her hands on her hips. Half of her hair fell over one shoulder in a cascade of curls; the other was stilled restrained in the braid. How could this man infuriate her like no other? She had _lived_ in _Hell_! Vergil should not be able to have any kind of hold on her.

"Yes." He did a good job of keeping his eyes on hers.

"I'm sorry, is there something you would like to share with me, Vergil?"

"No. There's nothing that I would share with you."

"And yet," she snarled as she circled him, "_you_ are the one hiding in _my_ room. Tell me, why is that?"

The man had kept his eyes on her movements. He stood openly in the center of the small room. No words came from his mouth, but his eyes narrowed dangerously. Aella huffed at him. Then, with sharp speed she pinned him to the bed with one hand on his chest. She stood, towering over him, between his legs. He had not been expecting her attack, which was why it probably worked. Hatred radiated from his whole being as he lay on the bed, his arms spread out in an attempt to stop his fall. With her hand that wasn't pinning the man down, Aella grabbed Vergil's chin roughly and brought it up at a painful angle to kiss him.

It wasn't a kiss they had shared before. Vergil was angry and Aella was hurt. She couldn't ever remember being _hurt_ before. For the longest time, the woman used her anger to shield her from such a terrible emotion. And without any warning, Vergil's cold attitude bit into her soul viciously. So, Aella assaulted the man's lips. She was ruthless and relentless as she tore his lips apart and shoved her tongue down his throat.

_What are you doing?_

She ignored his voice. The rage in it was to be expected, but he almost sounded disgusted in her head. Maybe it was all in her head. But the voice wasn't just a mind game; she couldn't make that stuff up. She wasn't insane.

_Get off. Tell me what you are trying to do. _

And there was that bull-shit again. Did he think she was a witch? That would be one helluva insult. He needed to organize his facts. Witches were not of Angel-born. They were mortal.

Vergil bucked against her body and Aella crawled over him in retaliation. She straddled his hips as she gained better leverage for the kiss. He growled into her mouth and the vibration echoed in his chest against hers.

_AELLA!_

She pulled back and glared down at him. The shout echoed between her ears.

"What are you doing?" The growling was still there. An animalistic aura began to settle around them. Whatever had happened in the forest was happening again. Right now, in the cozy bedroom. He was also panting and that prompted a bit of smugness to her stinging ego.

"Finishing what we started in Hell. This is what you want right? To have me? When you're done with me there will be nothing left and you won't have at act like I'm poison to you."

"Damn it all, woman!" Vergil snarled as he tried to get closer to her face to yell at her. "Where did you get that?"

"You are a man, and I am a woman. This is what you desire, yes?" Why was he denying her? If he got what he wanted, then he wouldn't have to be so hurtful to her.

"You're mad. That's what you are." He fell back to the bed and shook his shaggy head of silver hair. "I don't want that."

"Then why won't you say my name?"

"Because I will not fall to your spell."

"I am not a witch you insufferable fool! I am Heaven-born. Did that little detail slip from your half-breed mind?"

"You can tap into my powers, what else can you do? Can you force me to do your whims? Can you make me so infatuated with you that I drop my guard?"

"I cannot do those things, Vergil. Yes, I tapped into your powers because that is how I operate. I did the same with the river. I can use another's properties as a catalyst to do what I want. But I can't force _you_ to do anything. And a love-spell is entirely beneath me."

They glared at each other in their compromising position. The room was silent and dark. Vergil could see the anger and frustration all over her face, but the hurt in her eyes shined. It was almost a tangible thing. The air was thick with tension. Now what? If what she said was true, and Vergil knew she couldn't lie, then not only did he just make a fool of himself, he also openly admitted he was infatuated with her.

As her enchanting eyes widened slightly she whispered, "Vergil, you-"

No. He wouldn't have her say it. Vergil shoved Aella off with strength he had been suppressing. Like the woman could hold him down with one hand…

She stumbled back, reminding Vergil the state of undress she was in. Damn it all, he wanted her. And now she knew that. And it was of no one's fault but his own. When had this happen? He never fancied anyone before. That kind of companionship was unnecessary. What made the woman special? Why was he attracted to her?

It was more than lust. He didn't want to strip her and take her in the most primitive of ways. Well, that was not _all_ he wanted of her. If Vergil allowed himself to think upon this dilemma fully, he would have realized that he wanted Aella to continue to stay with him. Because if Vergil every told the truth aloud, he would have stated that he was afraid of being alone.

But Vergil did not think about it. He did not say anything. He stalked past the stunned woman and left her in her room as he moved to his. When he closed the door to his cold and dark room, Vergil fell face-first onto the bed. Knowing that sleep would completely leave him tonight, he simply listed the things he needed to accomplish as soon as possible. The list grew and diminished throughout the night, and not once did he think about what had happen with the woman in the other room…

Aella… She had not enchanted him, but there was something about her that drew Vergil towards her. The-moth-to-the-flame was an accurate-enough analogy. She was his flame, and one day Vergil might get too close to her, and she would become the death of him.

**RequiemofaFallenAngel**

Dawn approached much sooner than Aella was ready for. She had not slept at all the previous night. Whenever she felt the heavy sensation of rest her mind would vengefully latch onto an image of Vergil, bathing in the river. It wasn't a dream, it was an actual and real image imprinted on her brain. Aella could feel the earth against her bare feet and hear the birds and bugs in the trees. Too vivid to be a dream and too nerve-racking to keep sleep at by, it was only too obvious that she would not get any.

When the half-devil left her too stunned to move last night, she simply crawled into bed and tried with all her might to rid her thoughts of him. Vergil was an insufferable, rude, egotistical, moody child. She should not have desired him so. There weren't any more delusions left to kid herself with either. She did desire Vergil. For inexplicable reasons, she did not want to be alone anymore.

As the two of them walked far from the inn in the pink and gray lights of dawn, Aella did her best to not look at Vergil. It would be best if they proceeded to the Land without any confrontations at all. Whatever happened last night would never happen again, Aella would make sure of it. Vergil already said he did not want her body. Perhaps all he really wanted was to make them even and be rid of her as soon as possible.

Of course this was exactly what she wanted too. She could detach herself from the collar in the first time since it was placed. Then she would be on her way and never have to speak to Vergil ever again. The thought was bittersweet, but Aella forcibly focused on only the sweet end of the deal. Of what use would she have of Vergil in the future anyway? He was a half-breed with his own agenda working in his mind. There was no place in his world for her. And the same was said for her; she didn't need Vergil.

It was hours before they arrived in the city where the doorway was to Vergil's friend. It was modern and productive. There were cars and shops and busy people rushing in their busy lives; the little town must have been of a more rural area. The sun was high and beating mercilessly. It had to be summertime here – wherever _here_ was. She pulled back a fraction of a step to allow Vergil to lead them, though she still walked next to him. They hadn't said a word to each other, but it was by no means alarming. On the contrary, Aella preferred his quiet diligence. He wasn't laid back or anything, every second the man was aware of their surroundings. Before Aella continued on with her preferences, she thought about something completely different.

Her thoughts turned to Vergil's friend. She understood he could be trusted and that he was a very old being who exiled himself to the Land with No Name. All this he had told her yesterday, before they argued last night.

"We're almost there. Don't do any of the talking." Vergil said when they reached a dusty and old hat shop. He opened the door not waiting for her consent but expecting it. The door chimed and Vergil made quite strides to the back door without stopping to look at the owner who didn't even bother to look at them. There was an office space that was cluttered with stacks and stacks of paper and no computer beyond the hat shop.

Vergil didn't even slow down. He moved to another door at the side of the office. When Aella stepped through she felt a sickening sensation, like when she left Hell through the mirror. She opened her eyes and stared at a long hallway in an old apartment building. There were several doors on each side of the hallway but Vergil was already heading to the one they needed, adoor with gold lettering. It read: "Gastoff's Office." So this must have been Vergil's inside man for untangling demonic devices.

"Remember," the man hissed at her without so much as a glance her way, "not a word." He pushed open the door with a grunt and called out to the empty air, "Hey, Gastoff! You in? I need that favor of yours now!" The door bang loudly as it shut behind the pair, much more loudly than it should have been by the appearance of the door. The room they entered was like the living room of a beach house. The French doors across the dark cherry wood floor were open and Aella could hear and smell the ocean. It was as glorious as the rain.

"Vergil?!" A man in his early forties gaped at the two visitors from a patio lounge chair with a book in his lap. He pulled his black, rectangular rimmed glasses off, wiped them on his pale blue sweater then replaced them. "Oh, in Heaven's name! It is you!" He let out a warmly fatherly laugh as he set the book on a little table next to him.

He stood and Aella gave him an once-over. He was wearing tan slacks and a prep boy's sweater over a white-collar shirt, the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His golden brown hair was shaggy and hung in curling disarray, and his complexion was a light olive. The only odd thing about him was his bright green eyes; they were too green to be human. Not even a computer could create a green like that. As the man moved closer, he pushed his messy hair out of his face and the woman could not hold her gasp in.

"Gallus?" She stared at him with an opened mouth. Vergil had never seen her with an expression like that. What was wrong here? He turned to Gastoff and almost choked. The guy was about to cry. Not the weeping kind that he did whenever Vergil used to visit him as a young man, but the kind of crying that only comes from great joy. They had to have known each other, but when? Vergil knew Gastoff from years back and he knew the man had been exiled a century before Vergil was even conceived.

"Aella? My little Strom." In a second he raced to her and she did the same, he held her in a tight embrace that did not have the same feeling a lover's did. Was he her father? Were Angels conceived like mortals were?

Then Gastoff gasped harshly in pain as he shoved Aella far from him and into a book shelf. She limply fell to the floor, and though she was not injured she looked defeated nonetheless. "Gallus, I'm sorry. I forgot." Then she pulled herself up and stood behind Vergil. She no longer lifted her head to speak to him anymore. A nasty black burn covered one of Gastoff's arms completely; the clothing that had been there was charred into ashes.

"You're an Angel." It sounded like an accusation that anything, but Vergil felt cheated somehow. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Gastoff gave a hollow laugh, nothing like the carefree one he gave Vergil at their entrance. "Like you would've come to see me if you knew I was of Heaven-born?" he spat, "Aella, why are you here?"

"Get this off of her." Vergil demanded as he pointed at the collar at her neck, which was probably what burned him.

But the man hissed at them, "Get that tainted trash out of my home, Vergil."

Well, that pissed him off. Aella was nothing but a threat to his health now, but she was not trash. "No. I know you can get it off. You can do this as a favor for me anyway."

"You'd waste an Angel's favor for this creature?"

"I was going to force you to do it even before I knew what you were. A favor is a favor. I don't care what you are. Now," He grabbed Aella by the shoulder and shoved her in front of Gastoff, taking care not to have them touch or to let her go, "take it off."

The man sighed and waved his hand in front of Aella's face without so much as looking at her. The woman fell limply in Vergil's arms and he held her to him as he glared at Gastoff. "I've never seen you get so worked up over a woman." He commented dryly as he began to walk farther inside the beach house. "Come on, kid. Bring her along. I'll see what I can do. Then I'll be rid of you forever."

**RequiemofaFallenAngel**

Vergil didn't think he could ever hate Gastoff. At one point he and Vergil's father had been _almost_ friends. That was why Gastoff owed Vergil a favor, something his father had done. But now that his father was suffering forever in the inner circles of Hell, Gastoff gave his favor to the first son of Sparda he met. Lucky for Vergil, he was more intrigued with his demonic blood than his little brother. He didn't back out of his deal with Aella just because the guy's breed had been identified.

Gallus was some kind of warrior of Heaven, one of the Archangels. He was banished to the Land with No Name because he had fallen in love with a human woman who died of a rare disease. She could not give Gallus a child, but they had truly loved one another. This Gastoff told him as he began examining the collar on Aella. He never even looked at the woman, as if she were some emotionless, lifeless experiment he had no interest in anymore, or a corpse. It pissed Vergil off. But he stayed out of the way and let the man talk.

"I trained Aella, back in my early years, my prime years. I used to be her mentor. But she was young and when the Great Fall came, Aella chose her side." The angel looked so much _older_ than when Vergil greeted him an hour ago. His sandy hair was streaked with gray and his gentle face was creased with wrinkles. Gastoff had never aged a day whenever Vergil visited him in the past. It was disconcerting to see him look so frail.

"You said so yourself, she had been young. She made a mistake, Gastoff. Can she not atone for it?"

"You're one to talk about atonement and forgiveness." The man spat bitterly. Finally he sat back from the medical table Aella had been lying on.

"How do you take it off?" Vergil demanded as he moved to stand next to Gastoff.

"You're faith in me is most surprising." He chuckled darkly. "It's pretty intact. It'll take a lot of effort and I don't think I'll be able to sever the connection completely."

"What do you mean?"

"It's demonic, Vergil. Why would you bring something demonic to me?"

"I've seen you separate bondings before."

Gastoff raised a bushy eyebrow, his facial hair was growing out of control now too. A long, light blonde bread reached his collarbone, too. Vergil had never seen him so disheveled. "That was different."

"No, it wasn't. You're just tied up on the fact she's tainted. As if you're so pure, yourself," Vergil bit at him.

"Shut up, boy. You know nothing."

"I know you can get it off."

He laughed at the half-devil's face, "Getting if off ain't the problem. I can't sever her ties to the prince."

"What does that mean?"

"It won't matter if the collar's on her or not, she has been poisoned by the prince's darkness. He will always have a hold on her."

"But if the collar's gone he can't track her. She'll have a fighting chance."

"Why do you care so much?"

The response caught in Vergil's throat. He wasn't even sure what he wanted to say to that anyway. So he glowered at the man and scoffed at his probing look. "It's not of you're concern, old man. Get the collar off her."

Then Gastoff's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he started laughing like a drunkard, his normal laughter. It didn't make Vergil feel very confident of where the man's mind had wondered to. He couldn't have seen what Vergil had been hiding. He couldn't have…

"I can read you like a book, kid." He chuckled, "what were the odds, a monster like you and _her_." He shook his head with a wide grin plastered to his face; it made him look mad. "Alright, I can't cut the bond, but I'll do one better."

"Better?"

"I'll have to trick the bond to latch onto something else. Not the darkness in her soul, but on another being altogether."

"Wait-"

"It'll work, I know it will."

"Gastoff, you crazed, old fool, what are you-"

"It'll take some time, though. Some serious juice too. I wonder if I have enough."

"Dammit Gastoff, I don't like where this is going," Vergil snarled dangerously as the Angel began to change his appearance again, back into the healthy, middle-aged man with the sun kissed features.

"You'll like it even less where it ends." He cackled as he sped out of the basement and into his house, muttering about his herbs and potions and how much juice he had on him. Vergil growled low under his breath. He had been tricked. Now that Gastoff knew Vergil was somewhat attached to Aella, he'd use it to do whatever needed to do what Vergil had asked of him.

She was his flame, and she was going to destroy him with her blazing beauty.

**Oh my goodness! I loved this chapter! Yeah Sparda!!! So, I know I've been lacking in the updates, but I have so much homework, I don't even sleep anymore! But here you go, I worked on this one as my means of procrastinating and upping my sanity. Anyway, what did you think? Isn't it great?! **

**Did you like Sparda? Did you like Gastoff? Please review and let me know how I'm doing!**


	5. Chapter 5

**This chapter is dedicated to Shiya64. Thank you so much for all your "fangirllyness."**

Now Bound Together

Vergil gave a vicious snarl that was completely beneath him. Gastoff was a sick bastard. He should have seen it in the number of years he came to visit him, but he didn't. The angel had been hospitable and pleasant and tolerant. In the span of ten seconds he became a hard and secluded old bastard. His relationship with Aella and God was sketchy and Vergil wanted nothing more to do with Heaven-born. He snarled again like a wild animal.

"Get over your discomfort." Gastoff snapped as if Vergil couldn't rip his head from his shoulders. "I'm doing you your _favor_." He smeared his words with bitter sarcasm. The man Vergil knew was no longer home. This new man was something on the unhinged side of things.

"And the bindings?" Vergil's voice was strained and he desperately had the itching feeling to attack the angel before him.

"I told you," and he smiled that despicable smile that made Vergil snarl again, "I can trick the binding, not completely destroy it."

"That's not what I was talking about."

"Ah." He finally turned from his herb concoction to give Vergil the smuggest looking grin. That kind of grin could take the Devil himself for a run for his money. Involuntarily, a shiver raced through Vergil's bloodstream. Gastoff and his father had once be somewhat friends, so that meant that Gastoff had to be on some kind of playing field with the once great Sparda…

"You mean, why are you chained to a table, smothered in lavender oil, and forced to hold the girl's hand?" He had to utter gall to laugh, "Because I can't have you running on me."

"I wouldn't run from you."

"But you would run if you knew what I was going to do."

"That you're going to use me as the means to trick the binding?"

"Yes," He laughed as if Vergil told him a joke, "that would be it." Gastoff turned his back on Vergil and he was left to seethe and snarl to himself. Without meaning to he turned to check on Aella. She wasn't chained to anything, but she hadn't woken since Gastoff knocked her unconscious.

"Will it hurt?"

Gastoff turned with a sharp look of surprise at the half-breed on his kitchen table. "What? Is the great Vergil, son of Sparda scared of a little pain?"

He scoffed, "Not me." Then he was snarling again. At least he shut the old man up. The unexpected concern he had for the woman surprised himself, but since Gastoff already knew she wasn't any average woman to him, then it couldn't hurt to say anything more? In fact, the whole reason he was chained down to a table was because Gastoff knew he was attached to the woman.

"No." The old man had his back on Vergil but the aura of sadness wasn't hard to see. "It won't hurt her at all."

"You shouldn't hate her."

"I'm not talking to you about her. And who are you to talk about hatred? The way I see it, you still have some daddy-issues of your own. And that brother of yours, do you plan to see him during your time here on the mortal world?"

This time Vergil didn't have the ability to snarl disgustingly at the old man. It wasn't like Gastoff had never mentioned his brother to his face before. What bothered Vergil so was the ability the man had to simply _know _what Vergil's intentions were. He was _not_ going to face his brother, in order to keep things simple. And Vergil thrived on simple.

"What's going to happen to us, exactly?" He changed the topic but managed to keep enough dignity that Gastoff didn't laugh in his face.

Instead, the old man turned his back on the table and snickered quietly to himself.

"In a moment, you'll feel a small shock – like a static shock, when you pull your clothes out of the dryer." He caught Vergil's leveled look. "Ah, you'd never acknowledge something so '_insigificant_.' Would you?" some snickering followed before he continued, "Anyway, then the _real_ fun begins. Mind you, it'll suck afterwards. Don't try to get up. And whatever you do, don't close your eyes." Angels knew how to be serious. Like they wrote the book on it, or something.

Vergil turned his eyes to the ceiling and tried to relax his muscles. It was difficult to do so while chained to a wood table but he wasn't an amateur to uncomfortable situations. Every cell in his body, demon and mortal, was screaming for him to preserve his life and run as far and as fast as he was capable of. To be bounded to a fallen angel… When someone says "there are worst things," they usually mean something like this.

His arms and legs were bound together and his hand was secured to Aella's by the magic of duct tape. Angelic rituals weren't as complex as they come, most of it was improve and luck. Or perhaps it was faith more so than luck that would sound much more professional.

A small prickle traveled up his arm from where it joined with Aella's. He wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been expecting and waiting for it. A tug from an unseen force made him look at Aella, as if some part of him was expecting her to wake up for whatever was about to happen.

She didn't wake up. But her body convulsed in spasms of pain. She thrashed about the table and Vergil's grip tightened painfully. _Focus on me. Focus on my hand. _Suddenly without warning she calmed and Vergil felt the kinds of pain that were only imagined in a place he would never be dragged down to again.

It was like lightning, pure and raw, was raking the inside of his skin and racing through his bloodstream. His mouth gaped open but no sound came from it. His back arched off the table and his legs tried to kick violently in spasms, the chains prevented them from doing so and it only hurt that much worse. Unconsciously, his grip tightened in Aella's hand, but this time it was for Vergil. He needed something solid to draw his reality to. She was real; she was solid.

She was also soft and warm.

"Vergil." The voice was cold and surprisingly soothing to Vergil's raging pain. It was a temporary affect. As soon as the voice stopped speaking, the pain was back and more terrible than before. He could hear the tormented screams of others as the spiked whip attack them. He could smell the decay of rotten flesh and the stinging scent of bitter sulfur.

"Vergil, look at her." The voice commanded and without second thought, because he couldn't even conjure a first thought, Vergil did as it said. He hadn't even realized he closed his eyes to the pain.

Aella was lying next to him, peaceful and soft as she slept. Her demeanor was completely offset by black tendrils of energy that emerge from her body were not something he wished to ever be associated with her. He wanted to snarl and attack and drive the energy away from her, to protect her. But it was somehow apart of her, connected to her in a way he couldn't understand.

When the energy suddenly lashed at him, Vergil wanted to run. The idea to be some kind of foolish hero was no longer such an aggressive thought. He strained against the chains, the pain, and the energy. It was too much. His demon senses were on overdrive. Even though whatever dark energy that was attached to Aella was demonic, Vergil still possessed parts of humanity to him. His preservation gene probably came from his mother.

But she ended up married to a great devil and got herself kill.

So maybe his was broken…

After what felt like hours, the tendrils began to wither and their bite was no longer painful. Vergil watched with morbid satisfaction as they began to shrink and die. They couldn't find their way back into Aella's body and he felt like laughing at it. Before he could though, Aella's body shined with a brilliant light. It was like lavender knew how to glow at that moment. The color was so pure, so clear. No living man would ever be able to ever create it nor properly explain it. The aura of what she had been, as the true heavenly being she was. And just as suddenly as the light appeared, it was engulfed by a cloud of darkest blue. Like the blue sucked up all the light and left nothing of it behind.

Aella's back arched toward the cloud that settled a breath from her skin. Like she wanted it, _needed _it. When a soft sigh escaped her lips the cloud finally seeped into her skin. It vanished an instant later.

And Vergil could _feel_ Aella's relief. He felt it as if he were the one needing something to sustain him and finally receiving it. He could feel the animalistic sated need inside her. There was a hole inside the woman and the cloud she absorbed filled it just as the dark tendrils did. The hole could not take the light, Vergil just _knew _this.

What had happened?

Slowly, as if dreading the answer, Vergil turned to look at his father's old friend. His cold, blue eyes met with the unnaturally focused green eyes of the angel. At that moment, while the aftereffects settled, Vergil saw what Gast – no, what Gallus was. He was a holy being, older than time and wiser than wise. For a second, a crystallized tear beaded on the man's face. It made him look human, but he wasn't.

"What have you done?" He gasped before Gallus pulled the same knock-out maneuver on him as he had done to Aella only hours ago.

**RequiemofaFallenAngel**

There was blood everywhere; a pool of it he could drown in. Thick and hot and fresh it surrounded him and drifted on in all directions. He took care to avoid slipping in it, but his skin was already tainted by the oozing liquid. Rashly he tried to scrape it off, wipe it off, clean himself someway. But it only made the blood stick harder, and it spread. In moments it was like he dived into the pool.

"And what are _you_ doing here?" The voice, it was cold and it soothed the feverish spell he was befalling to. A woman stood in front of him, on a black stone that the blood couldn't touch. Her dark hair almost fell to her feet and caressed her lightly tanned skin; her impossibly light green eyes pierced his corrupted soul. Something about her called to him. Deep within himself he could feel an animalistic part of him answer that call.

"I ask you again -" She stopped in mid sentence as she seemed to recognize him. "A son of Sparda?" Her cold and beautiful voice hushed to a harsh whisper as she knelt on her stone. "How could you be so foolish as to come here?"

And he suddenly felt a childish need to run. He hadn't felt that need in such a long time. His first reaction though was to lash out at the woman. "I am where I choose to be. Get out of my way little girl." He gritted his teeth and prepared himself for a fight but the blood… the blood… it was everywhere. On his face and in his hair and it trickled down his skin.

The woman's eyes flashed with something that brought a sense of wariness to this woman. She didn't smell like a demon, but the blood made everything smell the same. "My Name is Aella. Remember it, Son of Sparda." She held out a hand a gave him a serious look, "one day you will have to trust me, in exchange for that trust I have given you my Name."

He knew better than to take her hand. He _knew_ better. But what he knew didn't stop him from suddenly seeking comfort from a woman with springtime eyes. Before he thought it his hand was in hers and she pulled him to her in tight embrace. She did not seem to mind the blood or his feverish skin. She held him as if in an instant he would vanish.

"Aella…" he whispered before he finally fell into the first moment of sleep since he arrived at this hellish place.

**RequiemofaFallenAngel**

A soft sound awoke Vergil from a fitful sleep. It was like the ocean. He had only been there once, a time that was so long ago Vergil wouldn't doubt he'd be the only one to remember such a day. But the sound of the waves on the shore was enough to stay with him for as long as he breathed.

The light didn't hurt when he opened his eyes to find what made him think of the ocean. A fireplace was lit and Vergil realized that he was sleeping on one of Gastoff's couches in the spacious living room. He turned toward the light and found that his breath had left him. Chills caressed his skin. Fire ruptured to life within his primal instincts.

Before him, sitting on a stool in front of the fire with her back to him, was Aella. She was bare but for a sheet that covered everything below her hips. A woman was bathing not six feet away from him, with her back to him. She didn't seem to have noticed the shock that took over Vergil's body, or of the fact that he was now completely awake and aware of what she was doing.

Vergil didn't blush at the sight of her; he didn't have the thought process to. All he could focus on was the woman so close to him right now. A woman that caused him nothing but grief. A woman who sacrificed her very life to get him out of hell. A woman who was now a woman to him. It was hard to think of her as a soulless, selfish, creature. It seemed _wrong_ somehow.

The sound that had awoken him was a small wash cloth as it was dipped into a bucket next to her, and then brought to her unblemished skin. It wasn't really anything like the ocean, but like that time so long ago Vergil would never be able to forget this moment.

Firelight danced on her skin and cast unwanted shadows across her face as she turned one way to clean her shoulder. Would she blush once she realized that he was watching her? He doubted she could feel shame, but what he wouldn't give to see her embarrassed. Her face was a mask of concentration, as if she didn't dare think of anything but the task at hand. Water trickled down her shoulder and over the feminine line of her naked back until it slipped into the sheets.

An eagerness filled Vergil's senses for a moment, it was enough to do damage though. He craved this woman. He would always crave her. There was no stopping it. From the first moment he met her in Hell to their current situation, he had begun craving her. And lying to himself was no longer a safe method of dealing with it. Sooner of later his demonic instincts that were too primal to begin with were going to demand for more than simply her company.

Maybe it wasn't just his demonic nature either. Maybe it was that undeniable link between man and woman that had caused his situation. Perhaps. But no matter the culprit, Vergil had to come to terms with his cravings. Never had the wants for a woman ever distracted him. He couldn't bring himself to trust anyone so intimately before, and though he knew it to be true, a fallen angel was not any better.

It wasn't just the firelight or her unearthly beauty that held Vergil captive. It was the way she strived to right her wrongs. Despite the worst of all sins, she still wished to regain her humanity. She was practical too. She knew she'd never be allowed to become the heavenly being she once been. To compensate, she strived for lower, but still close-to-impossible goals. Goals that were within her grasp if she truly believed in them with everything she had.

Her strength in battle, the way she drowned the troll-demon without much effort at all. She was a warrior: graceful on a field of blood, lovely in the midst of her enemies screams, unyielding in that final blow. A mixture of beauty and strength that Vergil had never come to known.

Suddenly Vergil realized that her dark red hair was no longer the same length as it had been before he blacked out. The locks curled at the nape at her neck and flowed over her shoulders as the ends lengthened towards her face. Shorter in the back, longer in the front; it was typical work for someone who grabbed her hair and took a blade to it in a moment of passion. He wanted to see her face, see how her hair framed her face.

Water trickled in thick droplets as she began to wash her neck carefully. A sigh escaped her lips and Vergil wasn't sure how much longer he could take this onslaught. How could she not sense him? He was clearly awake and defiantly radiating more focus than was necessary for an unconscious man.

Wait…

"You are a cruel woman." Vergil groaned.

A smile graced her lips in satisfaction, "A girl could use a little boost to her ego every now and then." A frowned as she spoke again, "and I was an expert in torturing."

"That I know it." He sighed and stared her in the eye when she turned slightly to look at him.

"A joke." She stated with little humor.

"My brother is by far better at them than I." She nodded before turning her bare back to him again as she placed the cloth in the bucket and maneuvering the sheet to leave her somewhat decent. She stood and turned to move toward him. Oh, she was such a temptress.

"Gallus will not speak to me, or look at me. He can barely stand to be in the same room as me." She frowned and that tick in her jaw began to work again, "I couldn't ask to use his home." Her eyebrows tilted in slightly and it made her look… endearing…

Vergil couldn't remember the last time he used that word, for any reason at all.

All too soon she began to settle on a more uncomfortable topic, "He did however mention the specifics of our bonding."

"He told you what happened."

"Yes." She continued as if the question didn't mean anything to her, "we don't have to be in the same room. We don't even have to travel together anymore. Except that the farther we are from one another the more '_in tuned_' we'll be to the other."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, that if we do not travel together and go our separate ways, you and I will be able to feel what the other is feeling. Maybe even know what the other is thinking."

"Scary stuff." Vergil growled, "So, I take it you believe we should stay together?"

"I don't think we can afford anymore distractions."

He nodded his agreement, "Anything else?"

"He said that anyone with a pinch of magical ability will be able to track one of us using the other as a conduit."

"Like _he_ was doing?"

"Yes." Aella sat at the end of the couch watching the fire in silence. Vergil settled back onto the cushions without really feeling like breaking such silence. He watched her instead. After a while Vergil figured they needed to leave. Gastoff wasn't around to say goodbye, he usually always saw Vergil to the door and wished him safe passage. It almost seemed like sneering at his luck if he were to break traditions. In a Land such as this where the 'L' was capitalized, tradition seemed to be somewhat of a religion.

"Get Gastoff, we're leaving." He would have been shocked if she immediately obeyed him.

"Where are we going? Now that we cannot afford to travel our own ways, I feel that we must set some ground-rules for our journey. For starters, the both of us must always know where we are heading. I will not be kept in the dark." Before he could comment she went on, "Second, you will not treat me as if I am some object, contrary to what you believe I do feel." Vergil couldn't say anything to that; he had treated her poorly as a means to keep himself safe. Now that he had come to terms with his feelings, he could no longer keep her at arms length.

"We're going to my brother's place. He's a demon hunter. He also has something of mine that I need back." Aella raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Am I to tell you everything? You know where we are going; I am trying to be civil. What other rules do you have for me?"

"So we are to keep secrets?" Silence hung heavy in the air as they sat on the opposite ends of the couch. Did she sound hurt? Vergil glanced at her for a second and realized she was confused or worried about something. She was frowning again.

"He has my sword. I am far more useful with it than without it." Again more silence.

Finally Aella nodded, "Fine."

"Speaking of," He stood and stared at her as nonchalantly as possible, an incredible feat considering she was wearing nothing but a sheet, "how useful will you be without your dagger?"

Aella stood too and the firelight did very distracting things to her vibrant red hair. It was so dark it was like it sucked up all the soft light. Vergil was right to want to see her face, her shorter hair looked far better on her. The longer pieces in front curl against her cheeks and neck. He wanted to run his hands through it. It didn't matter if they traveled together or apart, there would be a distraction either way.

"I have regained another means to fight, thanks to you I suppose." Vergil quirked an eyebrow but she didn't say anything more about it. "You won't have to worry about me." That didn't mean he wouldn't.

Instead he only grunted unidentifiably before he strode to the entryway and shouted down the hallway, he was about to shout for their host when he turned to give her a once-over, "You should probably put something else on." He was surprised to see a faint blush stain her neck and ears. So the woman could be embarrassed. For some reason he couldn't fathom, this bit of information pleased him.

Aella turned, grabbed her pile of clothes off the coffee table, and filed into a small closet. Vergil called down the hallway, "Gastoff!" He didn't have to say anything more. The old angel knew what Vergil wanted and he'd deliver only to get Vergil out of his exiled life faster.

He did not disappoint either. Gastoff strode down the hallway gracefully while fuming at the same time. Perhaps it was a gift only angels possessed. He had a silver jacket slung over his shoulder and a hard look on his face.

"You can't come with us." Vergil said without much thought to it.

"I'm in exile, not self-torment. I wouldn't go anywhere with you willingly." He turned just as Aella emerged from the closet dressed in her jeans and long sleeved shirt, her boots were left untied. Without a flicker of emotion he thrust the jacket at her. "I made it into a fashionable coat, you'll fit in pretty well where you're heading." He gave Vergil a pointed glare. Like a father would at his daughter's boyfriend as he was about to leave with her to a party.

"It's my gown." She gasped as she slipped into the trench coat. It fit her perfectly, something she didn't doubt since he had once been her mentor. Gallus had transformed her old gown into human apparel. He did care. Quietly and secretly he still cared for her. "Thank you." She didn't sully his gift with tears; it would be easier on him if she kept her emotions to herself.

"Remember," Gallus said to them as Vergil reached for the door, "you dropped off the grid the moment you entered the Land. There will be nasties waiting for you when you show up on it."

Vergil nodded and opened to door with a sharp movement and held it open for Aella. Before Vergil followed her out into the apartment hall with the bright sunshine and the many doors, Gallus grabbed him by the arm and muttered something to him she couldn't hear. Vergil's face looked strained but he nodded.

When he joined her again she thought about asking him what was said, but if Gallus had wanted her to hear, she would have heard it. So instead she followed him out the same way they came in. Only instead of exiting a hat shop, they exited into a back alley from a brick wall.

"Don't think too hard about it." Vergil muttered before she could ask.

"Which way then?" She asked instead. He looked about the town then fell into. The hat shop they had entered in was across the street.

"We're going to need a car. It's not within walking distance."

"Won't we need money for that?" She couldn't help the grin in her voice or from her face as her companion turned to give her a hard stare.

"Yes. I thank you again." It was weird how agreeable he was being now. She had come to be use to the salty Vergil. This new one wasn't unwelcome by any means, but it was something she was going to have to get use to.

They exited the alley and she followed Vergil to a man who could get them a car. Aella thought about Gallus's last words she heard before they left. Someone was watching them. They had to be. What other reason was there for why they had not been attacked? Should she say something to Vergil? Surly he felt it too? Didn't he?

A hand grasped hers and Aella jerked as she looked down. Vergil's hand had hers in a vice grip as his body tensed. His cold, blue eyes were downcast as he tried to pinpoint where their stalker was lurking. There were too many people walking around, too many buildings, and too many possible demons at the Devil's disposal.

"Calm down." Vergil demanded then softened his voice, "They'll find us by scent if you don't keep yourself calm."

"What is it?"

"Not sure, but I don't think we've been found out yet. Without that collar, it should be harder for them now." He brought her hand to his mouth to cover his next words, "Blend in, be human." Aella was not sure why he needed to talk so quietly and intimately with her. But it was drastic a change from how he would have treated her before; he would have probably left her out to dry.

No, maybe not. He wouldn't have left her…

But it didn't matter now. Something was after them and she needed to focus. Human… Human..? How was that supposed to work? She wasn't human. Why would Vergil tell her that? And for that matter, why would Vergil do something so beneath him. He already told her his mortal blood didn't mean much to him. Perhaps half-breeds didn't live long if they stood out painfully so.

"There are too many people." Aella mutter loud enough for only him to hear.

"You think one of them is our demon?"

"What? No, too many civilians."

"Oh." He stared at her for a moment. She didn't hold him against his line of thought. It was in his nature to think of threats before he thought about civilians. "Right." Their guy was back with a set of keys to their ride, a four-door sedan. Calmly they walked to their transportation, but Aella felt the sensation to sprint to Vergil's brother's city.

"It's getting closer." They were in the car a second later and Vergil revved the engine once then they tore out of that place faster than she thought the battered car could pull. The roads were no longer dirt but concrete and the vehicle sped alone on the highway.

"We should get there by nightfall." Vergil said. It was the first thing he said since we got into the car. She was beginning to think he was putting her at arm's length again.


	6. Chapter 6

The Man, the Demon, and the Fallen

So close, they were so close to the city. If only they had attacked ten minutes later. If only Vergil had gunned the engine and risked it dying. If only she listened to the cold prickle at the back of her neck and said something; it would have spared them five seconds at least. Yet, none of those things happened and now Vergil and Aella were surrounded by a hundred lessers and one overly cocky Temptress.

Of Aella's least tolerated demons, the Temptress was the worst. The ability to hate did not process within an angels body, fallen or otherwise. Their emotions never progressed to extremes such as hate. But if she _could_ hate, then she more than likely _would_ hate the Temptress. A cold and dead corpse of a once beautiful woman, the Temptress was capable of great evil. Neither a woman nor man, the demon could manipulate whoever it chose to. With the ability to actually give whatever its victim wanted, the Temptress was a terrible creature.

But it wasn't a fighter. The Temptress relied more on its talent of persuasion and manipulation than on its poor capacity of combat. Thus, this is why Aella did not mind her lack to hate it. She could kill the Temptress easily back in her days in Hell. On the human realm, it made no difference. What she desired, what she wanted more than anything in the world, the Temptress could never give her. It could try to trick her, but she was no fledgling.

The only thing stopping her from killing the demon right now was the small army standing between them. They had come out of the landscape as if they were emerging from shadows. Lessers were incapable of such fine cloaking mechanisms. It was a forte of more, _refined_ monsters. In a mere minute their car was crushed to a million little pieces and in the next two seconds they had barely managed to get their backs against each other before they became surrounded. This did not surprise her, lessers tended to attack as one large entity.

The Temptress a hundred miles away smirked and gave them a sultry laugh. It had chosen a woman's body and voice. Aella muttered to Vergil, "Don't lose yourself to that trash." To which he only replied with an unidentifiable snicker. Was he laughing at her? She was only worried the Temptress was targeting him. She didn't doubt Vergil in any way.

"Just don't get yourself kill." He finally said in a muted and slightly soft tone. Did he care? Was he really worried?

Aella smirked and called forth the dark powered nestled inside her soul. Vergil was somehow connected her now, but she didn't have to tap into his power source anymore. It was like, when she bonded with Vergil a part of his reservoirs poured into her soul for her own use of it. It wasn't unlimited but it would replenish itself without adding any strain on Vergil and that was a win in her book. She never had her own power source before.

She clasped her hands together and thought hard on what she was trying to conjure. A sword appeared as she spread her hands farther apart until a Soul blade solidified in the dark blue cloud that surrounded it. Half her source was gone, but she wouldn't need it to actually use the sword. With satisfaction she relished in Vergil's gasp.

Pride was not an emotion angels owned either, but to say she wasn't the least bit proud of her Soul Blade was an understatement. About as long at her entire arm, shoulder to fingertips, the blade was cast in an unnatural black metal that shined like silver without the aid of any light. It was a thin blade and narrow too, perfect for her. She knew this weapon's breed, a katana, she believed. In two flicks four lessers disappeared into nothingness and she grin at Vergil's hard look. It would probably be the closest thing to shock she would get.

She gave him a sharp nod and Vergil quickly recovered himself to charge the Temptress, Aella protected him from the lessers as they tried to take the man down. It was no easy task to do on her own. Constantly moving from his left to his right, but Vergil gave her his back and she was determined to defend him to the end.

The Temptress was as beautiful as any folklore could make her, as devastating as any myth ever told, as completely dangerous as any fantasy ever was. Her blueish skin and cold black eyes could not hide her monstrous depravity, however. She was an Old Demon, probably as old as his father, maybe even older.

And the Old Ones were always bad news, on the twelfth degree. There was no way for Vergil to best her in combat, even if it wasn't the Old One's forte. Without Yamato he would be at the disadvantage, but that didn't mean he couldn't win. He would just have to be extra careful, avoid looking her in the eyes, and at the very least not die.

Before Vergil to get within range he heard a terrible screech, as if several birds of prey had taken to screaming at him. He pulled back from the Temptress a second before a creature crashed into the spot he would have been. Vergil had to wait for the dust to clear before he could catch a glimpse of what he was supposed to kill. He did not like what he saw.

Harpies. Damn.

Why did it have to be Harpies?

The half-bird, half-woman creatures were the mail carriers of Hell.

And there was a whole flock of them staring him down in front of the Temptress, a blockade. An obstacle. One that Vergil would get through.

The Harpies were ugly things, and Vergil had seen Ugly – with a capital U. Their bodies were woman, a head, neck, a torso, limbs, even breasts – and they did not seem to care for clothing in the least. Every last one had long matted hair of a variety of colors, but that was where to humanity quit. Their wings were their arms which were far longer than normal humans; the dark gray feathers almost reminded him of Aella's gown. Maybe the Devil had a favorite color? Their fingers were claws and their feet were talons, every inch of their skin was scaly and a sickly pale orange. The gray feathers speckled their bodies too, surrounding their face and shoulders and covering their backs.

Dozens of cold, solid black, beaded eyes pinned him to the spot. When he got past that creepiness, he saw their beaks. Yup, Ugly – with a capital U. His first time to see a harpy and it happened to be trying to carry him back to its master. Not only that, but there were a handful of Harpies, which meant they'd probably tear him to pieces in their attempt to be the one to bring him to Hell.

"This just keeps getting better and better." He growled at the flock.

They attacked together in the next instant. Vergil had no time to think of Aella, it took all he had in focusing a way not to die. The Temptress was still the most powerful one here, the Harpies were the distraction or the test, and the lessers were to get Aella out of the way. He had to give it to their boss, he knew strategy.

And Harpies were not like lessers. They didn't explode in dust when they died, they just didn't die. Vergil had attacked and hit each one that came at him solidly; he knew that if they had been lessers, then they would have died several times over with the force he used. But Harpies didn't die so easily and there were a lot of them to add to Vergil's list of troubles.

Then there was the screeching. Legend said that if a mortal heard the screech of a Harpy that automatically put them on the Harpy's list for carrying. Since Vergil wasn't totally mortal, he hoped he was somewhat immune to legends. After all, who could say what a Harpy's screech meant. Mortals would be dead anyway if they heard the sound, since Harpies were to only deliver, never receive.

Vergil lunged to escape the claws of one Harpy only to fall into another. They both tumbled to the ground and Vergil rolled it off him before its beak could take a chunk out of his shoulder. This really was getting him no where! He told Aella he could handle it. They decided without words to leave the Temptress to him. But he was fighting without a weapon, without any actual rest in days, without proper nourishment.

He was running close to empty.

A Harpy made the mistake to snap at him with its beak and Vergil snarled as he grabbed its throat – its very much _human_ throat! He grinned as he jerked his grip. Blood gushed in hot rivulets as he ripped its vocal cords out, this one would never screech again. The creature opened its mouth to do just that but more blood bubbled and no sound came to his ears.

When he knew it was dead, he flung the Harpy at the others. _Birds of Prey, Vergil, are like any other bird. They protect their own. Hurt one and you hurt them all. _His father's words, they were ringing loudly and clearly in his head. As if Sparda was standing right next to him, teaching him like he was a boy again.

His snarl escalated to a growl as the Harpies screeched at him. He had killed one, he would kill them all. Two came from each side and Vergil no longer ducked or dodged, he grabbed both in mid lunge and slammed both into the ground. He let one go so he could rip at the wing of the other. He broke both wings as the creature proclaimed its panic. Vergil knew that screech, it wasn't the screech of a Harpy. It was the sound of an animal as it struggled in vain, and knew it.

After he threw his second victim at the flock, he noticed the Harpies trade looks with one another. They were considering leaving this one be. Vergil grinned, and it was full of sharp, white teeth. He wouldn't give them that option. They came for him, and they would die by his hand.

Randomly, he seized on Harpy and broke its very human neck, the sound drowned out the protest of the beasts. He held onto this one though, and felt its power flow into his body. It was how half-breeds survived, why they were hunted and killed. Vergil and his brother had the ability to absorb the power of other demons. If he killed one and thought about it, he could take part of its essence. Part of its soul – if any demons had souls to begin with.

And now, he had the ability and knowledge and instinct of a Harpy. Legend told of male Harpies, they just weren't employed by a prince. Vergil let the instinct wash over him. Since he was male, he didn't seem to feel any loyalties towards their employer, nor did he feel the need to hunt and deliver souls to Hell.

All he felt was the desire to kill the disgusting beasts in front of him. Which was all he needed to complete the transformation. His arms stretched longer and dark blue feathers sprouted from his thinner limbs. His hands cracked as his fingernails became claws, though they still look vaguely human. He was a half-breed after all; he couldn't truly belong among anyone. Not humans and not demons. He kept more humanity to his physic, his mouth elongated into something closer to the muzzle of a dog than a beak, but at least he had fangs to fight them with. His legs grew longer and he watched his shoes break as his feet became talons, curled in on themselves so he could stand on them.

His skin prickled as pale scales covered his skin. It was like they had always been there, lying under his skin waiting to come out. It was the same pale as his skin tone, not sick orange flesh for him. Vergil took what few perks when he could.

The transformation took all but a second, only one second for him to splice his DNA with a demon carrier. When it was finished, he took a step towards the flock. And they, in unison, took a step back. If he could smirk, Vergil would have. But all he accomplished as was an eerie bearing of his wicked sharp teeth.

The flock took another step back.

With a screech of his own, which was more of his normal shout of warning, he attacked the handful of Harpies. Blood flowed and painted the ground and his vision dark red. He could smell it, a sharp tang. It went well with the fear of the beasts. He slashed with his claws, attacked with his fangs, kicked out with his talons.

When five more Harpies fell limply the others took to the air, beating their wings clumsily as they all tried to flee from Vergil. He let them go. As much as he wanted to kill all of them, the Temptress standing in the same spot as when he first spotted her wasn't going to stand idly by for much longer.

With a long, slender finger, she beckoned him to come to her. _Come hither and step into my parlor…_ Said the spider to the fly. Her pale blue skin glowed in the moonlight, her black eyes glittered, even as horrifying as the Old One was, the male instincts in Vergil's forethought howled in the reality of her.

"Little one," her voice was soft and inviting, husky even. The backdrop of the demon's power sounded rough and powerful and darkly echoed even after she stopped speaking. It lay in the darkness, behind the sweet, seductive purr. If Vergil hadn't had demon blood of his own, he wouldn't have heard the backdrop. The perks…gotta love the perks.

"Little one, you are so weary." The Temptress purred and it was like the soft voice was right at his ear. And the backdrop was ready to stick a knife in his back.

"Not at all." Vergil responded by circling her, stalking her. He dropped his Harpy armor as he did so. He didn't need much, only rip out her throat like he did with the beasts, and she would be dead-enough. Not dead entirely, Old Ones didn't really die entirely.

The Temptress caressed her chest, decorated in a flimsy gown that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. She wore several necklaces, each with a rock more expensive than a couple dozen of Aella's dagger.

Aella.

Right. He couldn't get enthralled. Not with Aella fighting the lessers, and from the sounds of the familiar screeching the Harpies did not escape her either.

"Why don't you come rest, little one." She stretched out her arms as if to embrace Vergil. He felt the pull of her power to bring him closer to her. He fought it with more effort than he thought he would need. He was left gasping when she finally lifted the pull.

"Why do you resist?" She sounded so hurt. He had hurt her. But he couldn't go to her. She was a demon. She would kill him. "I wish for you to regain your strength. I wish for you to become a great demon. You will become a great demon, little one. Just come to me." The pull was more insistent, a pressure against his back. He pushed back. He couldn't rest, not yet. He needed to get his sword. That's all he needed. And she was in the way.

"Come to me," A soft sigh against his cheek, still he pushed back. "Come, let me nurse you." The sensation of a woman's hand against his bare chest, still he resisted. "Come, my Great One." Warm, supple lips moved against his, still he didn't make a move.

It was getting hard to breath. Vergil wasn't sure he could keep this up for much longer. "You need only tell me what you wish and I will give." He growled as the invisible hands went lower and the lips sucked on his neck. "I will give it all to you." A gasped was ripped from his throat as the hands and lips started doing things he hadn't felt in _years_.

"So much pain." The soft voice whispered. "So much devastation."

Vergil vaguely felt his body moving toward the Temptress. She didn't seem as evil as she had been. Her dark eyes were sympathetic; her blue skin was pale and perfect. The gown flowed in the wind around her body, her long hair look touchable soft. The glittering ornaments decorating her hair and body winked at him as he reached arm's length. They were dark blue sapphires dangling from her pointed ears.

If he reached out he could touch her.

"All you need to do is ask." The demon cooed. She was smaller than he thought, she looked so fragile.

"May I touch you?" he asked.

"You may." She answered.

**RequiemofaFallenAngel**

He was Home.

The small cottage in the smaller town where he had lived with his father, brother, and mother when he had been just a boy was solid and real and pulsing with life. He could feel the warmth the home fed him; he could smell the flowers in the kitchen and the healthy scent of people outside. The sun lit his home from the small windows on either side of the front door, and the one larger window in the modest living room – where he was standing now.

It looked exactly like it had from his memories, when he felt empty enough to think of this place. The few furniture scattered about was worn and in his mother's favorite shade of pale blue. A checkered red pillow with a dark stain on it was the only adornment.

The stain had been from when Vergil hit Dante and tried to stop the blood with the pillow. His mother hadn't been worried about the pillow. She had fussed over Dante's bruised lip for days. Even after it was healed she would take his chin gently and look for any telling signs of his jaw falling off.

She had only scolded Vergil once, telling him that Dante was his one and only brother and that they were supposed to take care of one another. She told Dante the same thing. Oddly enough she had tended to Vergil's scrapped knuckles. His brother's sharp teeth had cut him when he punched him.

She fussed over him too.

Vergil closed his eyes. Why was he here?

The door opened and Vergil stared at the man who came into his home. He had white hair, just like Vergil's, brushing just past his shoulders. His clothes were clean, tailored, and very attractive. After the man closed the door, Vergil felt like a child all over again.

Standing at the entryway was his father. The great Sparda, himself smiled at Vergil as he walked closer to the man. Even though he was in human clothes, Vergil could feel the awesome power of the demon Sparda very much was. He was strong and quick and although his smile was comforting to Vergil, he could feel the threatening darkness inside the demon's soul.

This was what Vergil wanted to be. This was who his father really was.

"You're home." Sparda said. Even his voice held power. It washed over Vergil, not harming him at all but reminding Vergil that he could. He definitely could. But there had been a reason they were living here. His father had been – was – powerful and something happened…

"'Bout freakin' time." Vergil turned to the narrow hallway where the bedrooms were and Dante stood there. He was dressed neatly, more neatly than Vergil had ever seen his brother dress. Dante never looked messy, but he had an absurd fascination with gaudy. But his leathers and chaps were missing. Dante wore a pair of pinstriped pants, ironed and tailored, a pressed and dry-cleaned button down white shirt, and because it was his brother he had a red vest lying unbuttoned in an attempt to make lazy look fashionable.

Dante brought up a hand and smirked, "Yo." He actually sounded pleased that Vergil was home in that one word. No sarcasm, no remorse, only happiness that his brother was home.

"It's been a long time." Sparda nodded and Vergil looked between the two of them. What was he doing here again?

"Is that your father?" A musical voice, light and husky, drifted from the kitchen. Vergil turned so fast he thought he received whiplash. But there was no pain, only the sight that left him dazed and oh so… confused.

Aella stood with her hand on her hip as she smirked at him. She wore a dark blue casual dress that was on the boarderline of too short. She had dark blue sapphires dangling from her ears and dripping off her neck. Her long red hair was eloquently pulled back and pinned in place with a pair of glittering chopsticks. "You going to have him stand there all day?" She sauntered toward his father and gave the demon a hug as if they were old friends.

Sparda kissed her on the cheek, "Hello daughter." He smileed again and held her hand as she lead him into the living room.

Daughter!

"Your wife seems to have better manners than you, Bro." Dante chuckled but there was no venom to his words, only good humor, as if he had told him this one before.

Wife!

After she settled his father onto the couch, Aella sauntered toward Vergil, her eyes competing and winning against the jewelry. He swallowed but his mouth had gone dry. Aella stood on tip-toe and, as if he knew the movement by heart, Vergil bent low enough for her to place a slow and warm kiss to his lips. She tasted of honey.

He was home. His father was here, powerful and not at all weak and…

He was home. His father was here. His brother was here, not out hunting and killing and trying to…

He was home. His father was here. His brother was here. Aella was his wife, she wasn't… wasn't… in any pain…wasn't…

It was hard to think.

"There's someone else here. Vergil." Aella said very excitedly.

"Don't ruin the surprise." His father chastised good-naturedly and in a warm tone.

Dante chuckled, "Well, we have to tell him. Now that Aella's gone and ruined-"

"I didn't ruin anything. It's a surprise. And it's for him."

"Alright. Alright." Danted held his hands up in mock surrender, smiling like a fool. Aella smirked proudly. Sparda sighed with that smile on his lips. They all seemed so comfortable.

As if they had been together all their life. As if they had known and laughed and cried together. Where had he been for all of that?

"Vergil." Aella called from beside the front door. When had she moved? "There's someone here to see you." He walked to the door, his eyes one his wife. She smiled with an alluring invitation of warmth. She smiled with her lips together. Odd, he distinctly remembered her with fangs…

Aella's smile suddenly changed, she grinned at him as if she were challenging him. Two dainty fangs shimmered in the warm light. Vergil took her hand and kissed her cheek. He continued to hold her hand as he opened the door with the other.

There was his mother.

Her long blonde hair, spotless and pristine, cascaded down her back. She wore a long white dress and flat white shoes with pearls decorating them. Her blue eyes were warm and comforting and promised that there was no such thing as pain and sorrow. A hand with a laced glove reached out to him. His mother, she smiled and it was just as he remembered: her head slightly tilted to the right her eyes squinted slightly, her lips curved symmetrically not crookedly.

"Temptress," Vergil nodded at her. His mother's face looked taken aback, as if he had called her a whore in public. But that was all she did before he grabbed her throat. "Here's a tip, don't bring the dead back to life in the dream of a demon. They won't buy it for a second," his voice was rough, like he hadn't used it in days. Maybe he hadn't.

But it did the job; the house began to burn like it had the last time he had been here. His father roared in hatred as he bolted up from the couch, much like he had the last time he had seen him. Dante had Retribution out and pointed straight at Vergil, much like the last time he had visited his brother in his shop. He turned and waited as he watched Aella, who was now the Temptress completely.

Vergil looked at the threshold. The vision of his mother was gone; in its place was a horde of nasty looking demons: seekers. They were like Harpies in that their job to their prince was to search and retrieve. Where as the Harpies only bagged and brought home, the seekers thrived on destruction. They destroyed everything in their path, next to the path, and anything they missed on the way. Then they brought back their job.

"You want to see what happens next?" Vergil asked the Temptress, who was trying vigorously to release herself from Vergil's iron grip. His hold tightened and the Temptress cried out. "You really should watch this next part." Vergil grinned with icicles dripping from his fangs. The demon's eyes widened and she could do nothing as the half-breed's nightmares ensnared the both of them.

**RequiemofaFallenAngel**

Aella pulled Phantom out of the last demon among the small army she defeated single-handedly. Quite a feat for someone just waking up form a couple centuries long living nightmare. Aella turned her face to the night sky. It was speckled with twinkling stars. When had been the last time she saw stars.

"Thank you." She whispered to the wind as it swept past her, taking the foul stench of blood, decaying Harpy corpses, and the dust of the dead lessers. The woman turned slowly to look for her partner. He only had one demon to settle. By the sound of it he had to be done with it. So, he had sit and watched her kill the army by herself had he? Well, she was seriously going to have to deal with that hot-headed, cocky-

She froze.

Vergil was trapped in the thralls of the demon. Its light blue arms were wrapped around him as it kissed him. And it was truly it kissing him. Aella had seen the tempter's breed work only twice in her lifetime – twice had been far more than enough – and the demon had been the one to do all the kissing. The victims were too, well, enthralled with the demon's trickery to be able to do anything at all.

At this moment in time, he was connected to the demon too. If she killed it, Vergil would die. Then the…prince would have no more trouble or problems in devouring Vergil's soul.

"Well that's _real _nice." She sneered, "Getting enthralled with a demon, and Old One too. And you boasted your abilities to take care of it so nicely, I thought." She knew neither could hear her. But she had nothing else better to do other than wait for Vergil to disentangle himself, or for the demon to break free victorious. "Stupid, cocky, ignorant, pathetic, blasted, self-centered, vain," She continued ticking off the characteristics she couldn't stand about him. Surprisingly, the list had been much short that the last time she had ticked through it.

The two bodies moved and Aella waited with tense muscles and a sting behind her eyes. But neither pulled away from the kiss. No, neither pulled away, but Aella watched with horror as Vergil tilted the demon's face bent it farther back and began to kiss it.

Well, that was gross.

"Really? Really, Vergil? I know it's been _awhile_ for you, but this is just degrading!" She'd never seen anything like it. Never had the victim – and she wasn't a hundred percent Vergil was a "victim" now – succeeded in overpowering a tempter's enthrall. "You had better come out of that alive." She threatened, just short of a growl. "I mean it. If you don't come out of that alive and completely whole, I'll kill you. _Then_, I'll hunt down your soul and stick it in someone else's body just so I could kill you again." She glared at Vergil as he kissed the demon. "I'm going to kill you more than twice though. Just for giving me this visual. Do you know how bad my nightmares are going to get now?" She realized she might not have been exaggerating that one.

The demon tried to pull away from Vergil. It pushed against his chest but he wouldn't let up. He grabbed a fistful of its long hair and jerked it into submission. It subsided. No. Way. He just submitted a tempter, and Old tempter.

"Who in the Dead of the Night _are _you!" She demanded. The heat behind her eyes was stinging smartly now. "What the in the seventh gate are you thinking? You are _not _that good of a kisser!" She was near to shouting now. "I know! I've been there!" She gestured toward him and the demon. "I know you can't _possibly_ be that good!"

Beginning to pace back and forth she heard with completely called for horror and fascination as the demon made the smallest and most pathetic of whimpers. It was fighting again, desperately it tried to get as far from Vergil as possible, while Vergil did fine work at keeping it right where he wanted it.

Aella scrunched her face in disgust, "You had better not really want her!" She was shouting now. She pointed a finger at him in accusation, "You're father was not some Desire Demon! You do not need sex to live! Unless there's something I'm missing here, you had better be killing it from the inside out!" She narrowed her eyes to slits, if only he could really hear her, see her, "I swear, Vergil. That's what you better be doing. If that thing isn't dead from the inside, I'll chop its head off." As an afterthought, just in case he could hear her, "and yours too, for good measure!"

The demon gave one final shudder, as if it had reach oblivion or if it was taking its final breath, Aella could not tell. She held her sword at the ready as she waited with tense nerves. Vergil shoved it away from him with a disgusted hiss. It was the most reassuring and lovely sound to her. She lopped off the demon's head without missing a beat. Then she stalked Vergil.

He was breathing hard his eyes on hers as she circled him. He spat at the ground, not in her direction, before he said "You going to chop mine off too. For good measure, of course."

She thought she could see a ghost of his condescending smirk before she scoffed, "I really should you know. For that visual I should kill you right now, and a hundred times again, and a hundred more after that."

He threw his head back and shook his hair out as he chuckled darkly, "You'd devote your life to killing me over and over again?"

"I would." She answered with ice stinging the words.

"You wouldn't just let the prince have me?"

That had been the real reason why she'd put his soul in another body and continue to kill him repeatedly. "No." She answered with steel, "I simply want the pleasure of killing you in several hundred different ways. I'm quite creative when it comes to Death, and I haven't been in my art in such a long time."

By the way panic flashed in his eyes for a split second, Aella felt a thousand and one times better. She only had to witness the kiss; Vergil had been the one kissing it. That was traumatizing enough. With a sigh she shook her head, "Of course that would take a great deal of effort on my part. Killing you, finding your soul, putting it in a body, killing you again, finding your soul again, thinking of new ways to kill you…it's all very had work."

"May I suggest something that may be easier on you?" Oh, he _could_ be fun!

"I'm open to suggestions."

He stood and began to creep towards her. It was more than a walk, more than a stalk. There was no animal alive who could move the way Vergil did at that moment. "I swear, Vergil, if you kiss me right after you kiss _that_," she pointed to the decapitated demon without taking her eyes off his, "I will kill you right where you stand and be damned with the effort and hard work of hunting you down for the rest of eternity."

Vergil never missed a beat. He stood only a hair's breathe from her personal space. "I could tell you how I kill it," he offered.

Aella eyed him as if she were thinking hard about his decision. "Alright." She coincided after a moment. "This should be good."

"It showed me what it thought I wanted. But we half-breeds are complicated creatures. She favored my mortal side more than my demonic. And since I despise my mortal blood, it had already failed from the very beginning." As he spoke Aella watched as his eyes began to grow hard and cold.

"The demon showed me my father, alive and healthy and whole. It showed me my brother, as a respectable and loving man. Strike two. My father looked far too human. He never looked that normal even when I was a boy. And Dante? Well, he's never been respectable and he can love more than most humans. The demon downplayed what I found… acceptable about my brother and idealized in my father.

"Then, the third slip was you." Aella didn't have time to hide her shock. "You were there, how could you not be?" He smirked at her as if he were about to call her a silly girl. "You were there and since you were the newest to my conscious, it had more trouble creating you. It would fix things after a second you would do something. It dressed you then deleted what didn't fit after I had already seen them. Shabby work," he criticized.

"But the final straw, what really set me off, was that it brought me my mother." He waited. By the look on her face she knew what had happened to his mother. "Rule one of the demon psyche: never bring the dead back to life." He finally moved away from her, his shoulders tense and his eyes ice cold and shining with restrained energy.

"I've never seen a victim take over the thrall." She said as she moved slowly, making deliberate steps to make noise so as not to upset him. "You should be proud of what you just did."

He snarled, an animalistic sound coming from a human throat. Demon vocalizations did not have the same trouble as mortals with the language of the Beasts. "I showed it the day my mother died. I made it turn into her and suffer as she had suffered."

"As well you should have."

Vergil turned on her fast. He had his hand with the dry Harpies' blood around her throat and his face was dangerously close as he snapped, "I watched it all happen as if I were reliving it! I had to watch my mother suffer again!"

"But it wasn't your mother." His hold was to threaten; she could breathe and talk just fine, for now.

"You don't know-"

"I don't." She finished for him. "You're right. I don't know what it's like to lose a mother to a horde of seekers. I don't know what it's like to watch them tare her to pieces and being able to do nothing." Her eyes were flat and as hard as steel, "I never even knew my mother, Vergil. I lived in… among others who were just like me, without the ability to love a mother. I don't know because I just don't know what that love it like." He frowned.

"Angels cannot feel extreme emotions, Vergil. I can't love, hate, envy, or sympathize. I can't become depressed, enraged, sorrowful, or even joyful. All Heaven-born are born without these emotions. We can't earn them or win them or gain them. We just don't have the capacity for them."

Vergil's grip slackened even more as his eyes widened in shock. Aella sighed, "We can feel and we can hurt, but that is as far as it goes. I know of favoring the company of one over the company of another but that is not love. I know of regretting one's mistakes, but that is not sympathy. I know of accepting content but that is not joy. I know of acknowledging the strengths of one that I do not have myself, but that is not envy." She has his complete attention now, they were the only two the other saw. There were no threats to take care, no exact schedule they were following. All that was here were the two of them.

"I didn't know." Vergil finally managed when she waited long enough for a response.

"I know." She tilted her chin up at him, her features on the boarder of a glare. "But I'm not angry. I know you don't know and that is why I am telling you these things."

Vergil drew back his upper lip at the way she was looking down at him. She was shorter than him by a full head and she could _still_ look down at him. "I've seen you angry plenty of times. Just now for example," he countered nodding his head at the corpse of the Temptress.

She lifted one shoulder as she kept her cold eyes on his, "When I Fell, I learned anger fast – One of the Seven is wraith. Each of the Fallen were to latch onto a sin if they were to survive their life in Hell. Several hundred died that very night because they couldn't do that. I became very accustomed with rage from that moment on. But I cannot truly be _enraged_."

"Anger is different?"

"As is annoyance and irritation." She agreed. "I know anger, it is impossible for me to know rage. As I said I do not have the capacity to know it, feel it."

"Impossible…" Vergil muttered. He rubbed at his stubble as he eyed her.

He had already decided not to leave her. He accepted his fascination with her and did not elude himself into thinking that he did not… as she put it, favor her. He wanted her. Needed her company, her voice, her warmth, she didn't have to touch him nor want him back. He didn't ask for it, he only willed that they stayed together as long as possible.

To Vergil's liking, as long as they were alive.

"Thank you for telling me this." He finally said. She raised her eyebrows; did she think he would call her a witch and condemn her to the stake? Well, he _had_ called her a witch before. "I suppose it makes sense. I will try to not offend you." She actually scoffed at him, "What? You can't feel offended?"

"Oh I can get offended. As I mentioned, we can feel hurt. I'd just like to see you try."

He grinned, "Is that a challenge? I'll remind you now; I just destroyed an Old One from the inside out."

"Don't let Lady Luck deceive you." She grinned and it was full of challenge and fangs. Just like it should be.

"Whatever you say to make yourself feel better." Vergil called over his shoulder as he walked towards the entrance of the city. Aella was right beside him so he didn't need to call, but she smiled anyway as she tossed Phantom over her shoulder. It burst into a dark blue cloud and faded into nothing.

With sleep and a good meal, she'd be able to call it back again with ease. Practice, that was all she needed as with anything else. Practice. Soon she'd master her new talents and be able defend and protect herself and Vergil better.

Vergil wasn't a question. She had to protect him. The cold and broken look he had on when he spoke of his method for killing the demon touched her somehow. She wanted to shield him away from the spooks and ghosts and demons and sorrow. Never again did she want to see that look in his eyes.

**Ok. I know I haven't been as focused with this piece as I wish I was. I got kinda stuck in the middle of this chaptered and suffered from the dreadful Writer's Block! But I'm better now and with our heroes finally in Dante's home town, I'm sure I'll be much better with updates and the plot itself. **

**I'll try to keep up with this story as much as possible. But don't forget to review. Actually a review is what made me think of this story again and forced me to move past my block with serious determination. I really want to know what you think. **

**And this time I'll ask a specific question just to get things started. Tell me your favorite part of this story so far. That's it. You can comment about this chapter or about my writing or about my lack of updating. But **_**Please**_** tell me your favorite part! **


	7. Chapter 7

What Dwells in Blood

"I know I hold my brother in little regards, but I would have thought that since he _lived_ here he would have taken better care of the place." Vergil muttered under his breath as he and Aella avoided _another_ portal to Hell. "I mean, it's just one little city. How could he possibly have so many portals open in one blasted city?"

Aella huffed in annoyance. Vergil's muttering was beginning to rub her nerves the wrong way. They had been walking for two hours and he had done nothing but complain about his brother's dirty and demon-run town. Although, to a degree, she agreed with Vergil on the ridiculous amount of open portals scattering the place.

"Do you think he knows that your brother lives here?" She asked quietly. It wasn't just demons and portals and princes of darkness they were avoiding. When they had first arrived, some of the townsfolk mistook Vergil for his brother, which did not end well. Vergil had been in a foul mood since.

"My brother has never been one to lay low and blend in." He wasn't even looking at her now. His ice blue eyes pierced the empty streets ahead of them while his senses spread as far as they could go. The experience with the Temptress had left Vergil feeling on edge. That combined with the lack of sleep and food, they were not doing so hot.

"So the two of you do share something in common." The half-breed whipped on her in a second only to find her smirking at him. "I remember you were very much like that when I first found you. With all the commotion you stirred, I'm surprise Cerberus didn't just hunt you down himself." She tried to flick her hair out of her face, only to have it fall right back in.

"Whatever," he muttered.

Only two hours and Vergil was ready to kill for a place to sleep. He would never say that out loud of course. Not only would some demon hear him and try to capture his soul with such a loose and pathetic offer, but Aella would probably find the phrase funny and find some way to humiliate him sooner or later.

_We cannot feel love._

Before it could be heard, Vergil stamped out a growl that was forming in the back of his throat. She couldn't feel love. But she couldn't feel an assortment of emotions. Hate, envy, love, sorrow, none of the "extremes" were within her capacity to feel. However, she could like and dislike something or someone. And as far as Vergil knew she didn't dislike him.

She would say something if only to get a response out of him, whether to poke fun or to comfort she would at least think enough about his feelings before she acted. That had to mean something. She _couldn't_ hate him, and that was a blessed thing, but right now she _didn't_ dislike him. So, in a way he was at least making progress.

A cold sensation pressed against Vergil's skin. Another portal, only ten yards away, stood in the alley off of the road. He hissed his disgust. It wasn't like he expected it to be easy, infiltrate Dante's home and steal back _his_ sword, but he hadn't thought the whole city would be infested with portals. At least his brother wasn't a complete waste; he had exterminated the thick of the demons. Even though leaving a portal open only brought more demons back, right now there were none to be seen.

That didn't mean Vergil and Aella were going to take the chance of passing by a portal, even an empty portal. If a demon caught scent of them while they past, then a couple dozen hordes would be all over them. So the safest plan Aella had for them was to avoid the portals and move as quickly as possible to Dante's shop.

Which wouldn't have been so difficult to find, considering it was pronounced with a gaudy neon sign – if Vergil only remember where it lay inside the city. He had never actually visited the shop personally. He had sent an – at the time liable – opponent to goad his brother out of civilized country and into a trap he personally set.

Best to avoid his brother at all costs.

Get in without being seen. Get his sword. Get out before a scent could be left. It was a solid plan.

If only he could remember where in this Hell-ridden city Dante's shop was!

"You're lost. Aren't you?" Aella stated with cold clarity. She knew he had no idea where they were, or which way would lead them to the shop faster. Of course, if he had ever wished to visit his brother, it wouldn't have been while dodging and hiding from a portal every five minutes.

"Dammit, woman. I'm not lost." He snarled.

"Such a foul mood we're in," his companion commented off-handedly. She didn't look worried when she smirked at him in that condescending way of hers. She didn't have to spell it out for him though, Aella was afraid of all the portals. It was like they were just begging to be caught.

Vergil sighed, if something were to happen to her while they searched for Dante's shop, he was going to kill his brother. It was his bloody fault to begin with! There, see now Vergil, blaming your brother does make you feel better.

"We're close, I know that much." He pushed ahead of her with quick strides and she let him. Obviously he was upset and irritated, maybe this place dug up bad memories or something. Aella wasn't sure if it was any of her business, but she was sure they had made a point to not keep anything from the other.

"On what kind of terms are you with your brother?" She asked because the silence of the night was grating on her nerves. "You don't wish to see him but he has something that belongs to you. Wouldn't it just be easier to explain the situation to him? I'm sure he'd just give you your sword back."

"No he wouldn't. It's not that easy. I stole something from him and left him for dead. We're not that close." His eyes darted left to right then behind them twice before he sighed again.

"You're going to call the demons with that foul mood of yours." She enjoyed pushing his buttons, as much as she shouldn't.

"Maybe they'll recognize it and do the smart thing." He flashed a grin at her that almost reached his ice blue eyes. Then, his features mirrored marble, tough and unyielding. This wasn't the time to be messing with each other but Aella could help herself. She was edgy and she needed to talk. She needed to know that Vergil was just as unsettled as she was.

"Or maybe they'll try to suck up to their boss and take our heads."

That grabbed his attention. With a quick jerk he turned on her, his face inches from hers, "I would never let that happen. Do you understand?" She blinked at him. His words were aggressive and his eyes were just barely a shade too bright to be normal. "Aella, do you understand?" he pressed.

"Yes, I understand." She wasn't sure why she gave him such a submissive answer, but it soothed him somehow. His eyes did not dim, his muscles did not relax, but there was some sort of metaphysical weight that lifted from his many burdens.

He sighed again as he turned back to lead them to a livelier street, the entertainment district. The neon signs and the corner women glittered tastelessly as the drunkards whooped and shouted in dizzy exclamation. Vergil sneered at the sight of it all, "We're almost there."

Before they could touch the vulgar splendor of the district, something caught Vergil's eye. The shadows were moving. Aella grabbed his wrist to stop his movements and her hand was ice-cold on his bare skin. "Don't move." Her mouth barely moved when she spoke, her voice barely a whisper in the wind. The shadows moved again, the undulating of an ocean current, like something was breathing slowly and disrupting them.

As far as Aella was concern there were no portals near them, not within a proper distance to catch their scents. That meant whatever was watching them had been following them, and there had never been a single warning to their presence. No instincts flared and she was sure Vergil never sensed a thing.

And as tense and on guard as they were, there were very few creatures who could accomplish such a feat. Aella did not like any of them, and none of them were particularly thrilled with her either.

"What?" Vergil asked as soft as he could.

"Nightshades," she hissed.

Well, by the loss of blood in his face, Aella was positive and grateful the half-breed knew what they were – and what they were capable of. Nightshades were not like other demons in that they weren't demons; in fact, it was safe to say they were really despised by demons. The creatures were allergic to the sun and incapable of nothing but violence. This would have been acceptable to demon-folk of course, if Nightshade had not been known for their violence to absolutely _everything._ They did not know of things like friends or foes. They did not choose sides or hold loyalties. They were unable to stop the violence once they started it.

All in all, Aella would have taken on a handful of tempters instead of a pack of Nightshades. Considering her great dislike for the breed, this meant a considerable greater dislike to the Nightshades. They usually traveled in small packs, no more then four or five at a time. With their violent nature, it was a common fact that Nightshade would turn on even their own kind. Another fun fact that proved their isolation to demon-folk.

The only disturbing part was that the pack was only watching them now. Nightshades were not famous for their patients or for their stalking skills. They barely tracked and utterly destroyed. There wasn't any set job for them, no real reason for their existence. Mindless killing machines, the first of their breed.

The theory was that during the Great Flood, the Nightshades had not been allowed onto the Ark – yeah _the Ark_. Their destiny was to drown and die out. But somehow, and Aella was sure _what_ had a hand in it, the Nightshades survived.

"What are they doing?" Vergil snarled as quietly as possible. His face was too close to hers; his breath was hot as it traveled down her shoulder.

"I don't know. They should just be attacking, but it's like their planning." She tried to take a half-step away from him, desperate for some space. Vergil grabbed her by the upper arm and started a quick pace down the alleyway. Was he hoping to make it to the lighted district before the Nightshade figured out what they wanted to do?

"They've been following us since we left the Land," he said between clenched teeth. "That's not right. They don't think like that." It seemed he was talking to no one in particular so Aella ignored him and focused her attention on the pack.

Four Nightshades kept easy pace with them as they stuck to the shadows of the alley, every one of them old and full of boiling violence. Why wouldn't they attack? Why were they holding back? It wasn't like they took orders for anyone, or anything, so why all the sneaking and snooping? If _someone _wanted to keep an eye on them then they could have used something a little more reliable than Nightshades.

It just seemed like a poor choice in tactics.

"Nightshades can't stand sunshine, but they really don't like light in general. They won't be able to follow us once we…" Vergil trailed off as soon as they emerged from the alley and into the assortment of flashy and crude activities of the entertainment district. Aella felt it before she saw it. There were more Nightshades about, not just the four that were following them.

Ten shadows drifted in and out of the shadows from the artificial lighting but as soon as Aella and Vergil stepped into their sights, they moved closer without any hindrance to the lights. The four behind them slipped off the walls and filled the middle of the alleyway, blocking their first exit. They never once dissected themselves from the shadows.

"Any ideas?" her companion hissed again.

"I supposed there won't be any subtle way to deal with them." Aella didn't bother with whispers but in even and emotionless tones. The Nightshades weren't known for their negotiating skills either. She concentrated on her small supplies of energy and decided summoning Phantom was not going to work. Something smaller that could hurt a Nightshade…Could she call out for anything? Did she have limits to her reservoir?

Only one way to know for sure…Aella imagined the perfect weapon for a band of Nightshades…

"Tell me that's just a coincidence?" Vergil gawked as she clapped her hands together and slowly pulled them apart, summoning a blade the length of her forearm and completely covered in phosphorous and electronic energy.

"The Force is strong in this one." She smirked. Vergil almost took her up on a smirk of his own, if the screaming hadn't started.

The Fourteen Nightshades finally snapped and went for them in one unified rush. Vergil grabbed the outstretched arm of one and flung it over his back, only to have the thing transport itself out of his reach. He blinked at the monster. Since when were they so smart?

Aella swung at two Nightshades that came for her at the same time but they bent backwards out of her blade's arch and missed the swing completely. She glared at them; Nightshades were Old – with a capital O. So she supposed they were smart enough to survive as long as they had. But they were never able to move faster than an angel.

She hit one in the chest with her elbow and spun to avoid the attack of another, she only missed it by an inch. Her coat Gallus had made was proof of how close she had come to being shredded ribbons as the tail rippled in her movements.

Claws and Dagger-like fangs were everywhere. It was the only real solid part of their bodies, everything else was like shadow and shade and darkness. Mostly to get her fear under control, Aella punched a Nightshade right in the mouth. Several white and too-long teeth fell to the floor in a small clatter of bone hitting concrete. The Nightshade let loose a shriek that didn't have any human way of comparison.

Aella felt a warm liquid run down her ears.

There was panic everywhere. Humans screamed and ran in the chaos and caused Vergil to lose his shirt in the middle of avoiding the white claws of three Nightshades. At least they missed his skin. He could do without the checkered shirt anyway; the lumberjack look really did not suit him.

One Nightshade wailed in the kinds of agony only found in Hell. Vergil hissed as blood trickled out of his ears. Was there a way to kill them more quietly? Maybe if he had his damn sword..! Maybe he wouldn't be so slow or weak if he just had Yamoto!

_There is no loyalty to the Nightshades, Vergil. _Oh. His dad was speaking to him again. _It's not hard to pin them against each other. In fact, it's the only way to get out alive if you're caught in a band of them. _With a sharp twist Vergil threw one Nightshade into another. The reaction was instantaneous. They shrieked at each other and disappeared into the shadows as they began to rip one aother to shreds. He smirked. There. Two down, only…so many more to go.

It'd take too long to kill them all and since the others didn't join in on the fight between the two Nightshades, Vergil could only assume that these were no ordinary Nightshades. Nothing this old could be stupid enough to fall to the same trap more than once. But at the same time Nightshades weren't decent enough to not take up the promises of fresh violence.

So what was the Devil's game?

Was he tired of this Cat and Mouse chase? Did he just want to see the Nightshade rip Vergil and Aella to pieces for the sport of it? Or was he testing the waters?

It seemed that every adversary they came across was a level better and a level worst than the enemies beforehand. The lessers and Takinsh, the Troll demon, the Temptress and the harpies, and now a band of Nightshades. What was the Devil getting at? What was his goal? What did he really want of them?

There was a scream of the human variety behind Vergil that split something in his sensitive and raw ears, but the three Nightshades in front of him were taking up too much of his time. Maybe the human could distract the Nightshades before they overpowered Aella and him.

A flash of something red blurred past him, carrying the scent of fresh rain. _Aella_. Vergil turned and shoved his blow straight on at the Nightshade who attacked first, he impaled it. His hand was sticking out from the other side of monster as the black blood gushed from either side of the thing's torso.

In a moment of quick decision, Vergil absorbed the Nightshades energy. He had never taken from something with no real consciousness before; in fact he was sure the idea wouldn't have normally come to him if not for the sharp sound that came from Aella's mouth.

It wasn't quite a scream or a choke, but it was a sound of pain he had not heard from her before. She didn't hiss nor did she cry out, it was something that did however call to Vergil. She was in pain and the stench of her blood flowing would drive the Nightshades in a frenzy, no matter the kind of control they were under.

He absorbed the energy; it was thick and cold as it slithered over his flesh and into his soul – where the cold burned him from the inside out. It was impossible to understand anything past the intoxicating need to destroy. Vergil desired the screams of the mortals on a level that never occurred to him before. But it didn't stop at the weak mortals, it was everything – anything! He could demolish the buildings and set ablaze the entire city with the power he possessed.

The Nightshade would be the first to go however; he despised them more so than any other creature. They were far too much like him; they could decimate him if he didn't delete them from existence. A threat that would be annihilated in due time.

And that time was now!

Vergil let the essence flow and attached itself to his very being, beyond his mind and body, maybe beyond his very soul. His skin turned the blackest of black, darker than any shadow of the night. His hair tried to do the same but it only grew to his waist and burned a brighter silver. His eyes flashed and continued blazing with unrestraint blue fury. His fangs elongated and his fingernails grew to be a semblance to their sharp and pointed claws.

He cursed his mortal blood for leaving him only half-changed. But the moment quickly passed. Half-breed or not, Vergil would carve theses worthless beings and obliterate them for his sight.

A sharp roar tore from his throat before he ripped the closest Nightshade apart. Simply ripped him apart. Even though they had no actual form for him to grab and tear, Vergil wreck havoc upon the band of Nightshades with a carnage that left him breathless.

And craved more of it by the second.

When he tossed the remains of another victim he caught the glimmer of Aella in her battle glory. She was a force of great strength. Her wild, red hair flowed around her, a mane of blood and death. Her eyes were bright green, impossibly so, and shimmered in the relish of her kills. As her body danced with the violence of her actions he noticed how tattered and torn her clothing was. It barely stayed on her.

But the blood…

Oh the blood…

It was so sweet, so deliciously fragrant in the mist of the death and destruction. He craved her blood, starved for it. He had never known something so blissfully wonderful in all his life. The scent of her blood as it trickled from her many small wounds was more than he could handle. He didn't want to restrain himself, he couldn't even remember why that had been an issue. Why should he hold himself back when she was right there? Bleeding for him wounded and so close to the edge of a devastating ruin?

A Nightshade made a move for her. She could feel it as it charged and pounced on her. She flinched, there was no way she could defend herself in time. It took all her attention to kill the two that were about to attack a human woman. But the monster never touched her. She looked up to see Vergil holding the Nightshade in a death grip at its neck.

He snarled at it, "_Mine_!" He bellowed as he completely severed the head from the neck with one hand. Aella widened her eyes at the sight of him. His blackened flesh, his long and wild sliver hair – it glowed even with the black stains of the Nightshades' blood – and his eyes! Oh his eyes... They were bright and impossible ice cold.

When he turned to look down at her, Aella felt the shiver as her blood ran just as cold as his eyes. He had absorbed a Nightshade, what did that leave him with? Taking the essence of a monster with no morals, only the desire to destroy? What was he now? What had he done?

"Vergil," She was surprised with how steady and firm her voice was as she called to him. Even though her body trembled she ignored it and turned to face him completely.

He grinned and she caught sight of long and wicked fangs, four of them: two at the eye-teeth and two at the bottom. He moved with stealth and grace that was meant for creatures far fouler than he. His intent was plain; he was going to kill her. She could see it, sense it, but she wasn't afraid.

Slowly she placed a hand on his cheek.

It was a grave mistake.

Something that had kept him from attacking her right away shattered when she touched his black skin. He snarled and pulled her flushed against his body, bending her back at an uncomfortable angle and exposing her throat to him all in a second. She couldn't ignore the trembling now, and he could feel it as well. His wicked grin told her that much.

"Vergil," she tried again but cried out in the middle of it when his tongue traced a cut on her forearm. It wasn't bad and the bleeding stopped as soon as Vergil pulled away from it. "Vergil." Again he licked another small wound on her shoulder. She shivered from the sensation. It wasn't pleasing in the least. Now, it was completely horrifying.

"Vergil!" She begged this time, pleading in a harsh whisper. Vergil stilled. He had licked and caressed the cuts on her stomach and stopped the second he heard her plea. His grip tightened as he pressed his face to her stomach. He began to tremble.

Aella shuddered as she tried to breathe, "Vergil, get a grip. You are not some monstrous fiend. You know the difference between right and wrong, good and evil. I know you're stronger that this thing. Are you really going to let something so _primal_ have its way with you?" She snapped. It was too much, he was too much. This was not the time for him to be falling apart on her. He was supposed to be stronger than that. He was _supposed_ to be.

He had been the one to keep her focused, as much of a distraction that he was. He was the one who kept her from falling apart when she lost her way. When they had started their journey, she had depended on his courage and foresight. He was not going to go weak and soft on her. He was not going to force her hand to kill him.

"Vergil!"

"Dammit, woman!" He snarled, and though it was harsh and grated on her ears, it was Vergil's voice completely coherent and human. "You talk too much, you know that." He stood and pulled her up to stand with him in one jerky movement as he turned his face away from her.

She smirked at him, a hand on her hip as her grip on her blade softened the slightest bit. She huffed as if she were dealing with a simple child just to get him to turned in her direction, a hint of exasperation in his features. He grinned, with all his new fanged glory, as a small rivet of blood drip from one of those fangs.

Before either had time to bring themselves back to the remaining handful of Nightshades, a loud thundering noise burst and exploded and echoed as a motorcycle slammed into one of the monsters. It tossed the machine with an air of annoyance but didn't make another move as a blood-splattered blade protruded from his chest. It limply fell to the ground stone-dead.

Vergil sneered at the hunter who had killed the Nightshade. A man in a billowing red trench over a dark shirt and red leather pants stood with a childishly cocky smirk at the dead creature. His short sliver hair flared in the light wind. And he bark a strong "Gottcha!" as he tuned his attention to the two fighters for their thanks.

His bright blue eyes widened and shock as his muscled body froze with it.

"Vergil?" He croaked, his cocky behavior vanishing in a second. He looked very much like the lost little brother Vergil remembered so damn well.

**The shortest chapter so far and I'm sorry about that. But this just seemed like the best place to stop this chapter. I mean, can't much of a better cliffy than that! ^_^**


	8. Chapter 8

**I don't usually write my notes first but I have to thank all of my wonderful reviewers right now! Oh man, it's why I keep writing this story! Y'all are so amazing, it's really unbelievable! **

**Thanks again! And now, off with the ciffy's head!**

Back with Family

Vergil and Dante stared at each other in the midst of the blood soaked road, mortals shouted and screamed as the few Nightshades left attacked the buildings, the whores, their patrons, the cars parked on the side, the street lamps, the street signs, anything and everything within their sights. The brothers ignored the slaughter and violence as their demonic eyes glowed with warring emotions. Dante couldn't believe his brother was breathing in front of him, granted he looked like the vampires of bedtime stories to scare children to be afraid of the dark.

Vergil sneered. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Dante was not supposed to see him. This would not help him at all.

Half of a Nightshade's body flew between their death glare match. Vergil blinked at the angry and panting angel as her sharp green eyes narrowed dangerously while her glare flickered back and forth between the brothers. "Are the two of you so inept that you forgot a blasted battle was going on?" She spat the words as she straightened and cast one last glare at her companion before jumping into the fray of the monsters.

Dante scoffed with good humor, forced but good-naturedly enough. "Later, we'll talk." He said to his brother as he took off after Aella, swinging his sword in a great arch that forced two Nightshades to back away.

A growled curled at Vergil's lips. He would not be outdone by his little brother. He would not have that "_hunter_" protect his woman. No! The violence rose within his body again and Vergil welcomed it as he rushed past Dante, grabbing one of the Nightshades in his path and dragging its face against the concrete before he slashed at its body, draining it of blood.

He tossed his kill at the one about the stab Aella in the back. Both monsters, one dead and one struggling, landed at her feet. She arched her eyebrows at him before she delivered a death blow to the living one. Something else inside him swelled at her act. The way she could fight and kill pleased him.

There would be no use for a damsel; Vergil needed a woman who could keep up with him. And she kept a rigorous pace to begin with.

When one Nightshade remained, Aella put a hand across Vergil's chest. He wanted to kill it. No, not kill. He starved for its blood. He'd desired it to be ripped apart slowly, so he could savor the destruction of its very being.

"Let it return to its master." Her voice was a harsh rasp. She had to be as tired as he was and she looked several shades too pale. His fingers wrapped around her upper arm and she frowned at him, but did not pull away.

Together they watched the Nightshade shamble away as fast as it could, burning Vergil with the thrill of a good hunt. But his woman needed him right now. One pathetic Nightshade simply wasn't worth his efforts.

With minor difficulty Vergil pulled the essence of the Nightshade inside his soul. It took more thought than any other transformation he ever preformed. Considering he was dealing with the essence of a creature that knew no moral bounds, Vergil wrote the effort off without another thought to it.

Besides, there were more pressing matters that required his utmost attention.

The confused, hurt, lost little brother standing behind him was one of the many that drew his attention now.

"Vergil," he frowned and gave a hollow laugh. "Man, I thought…Well, all things considered… It isn't like I hoped…" he cursed under his breath. Finally he gave a crooked and cocky smirk, the same damn one he always wore, "You look like hell."

Aella was the one who answered. She burst with a dark and sarcastic laugh. It should have grated his nerves, but he enjoyed her laugh. "He's a perspective one." She deduced with a wicked look at Vergil. He tensed at the emotions that wrecked his body from that one look.

"That he is." He said to the angel. To Dante, "It is an easy assessment to make, considering where I've spent the last couple of years."

Something painful flashed across his brother's face. But it was erased a second later, "Vergil, man, I'm so sor-"

"Don't" he interrupted. If there was one thing he could not stand about his little brother, it was his absurd guilt. How he could blame himself for things beyond his control was beyond Vergil's comprehension.

But at least he could learn to leave a topic be. He nodded at his brother before he changed the subject. "Do you have a place to stay?"

"I hadn't been planning on staying long."

Dante again flinched at the cold words. "I see," was all he could come up with.

Aella huffed at the two boys. Honestly, it was like watching Vergil kick a wounded puppy. "But we would appreciate a place to sleep for the night. And food if possible." She gave the man in the red trench a small, reassuring smile.

The other half-breed smirked and Aella inwardly groaned at the cocky and lewd expression. He swept his trench behind him gallantly as he gave a bow to Aella. "Would _you _like to spend the night with me, dear lady?" Oh, he was smooth. Aella had to admit it, with those eyes and that look she was sure he devastated the female population.

Vergil growled low in his throat, and though he was no longer the remnants of a walking nightmare, he still appeared fearsome and violent. "Get a hold of yourself. Do you have no shame?" he snarled. Dante held his hands up as he locked eyes with his brother. Aella felt Vergil's grip tighten slightly.

She remembered what he said when he attacked the Nightshade that almost sliced her in half. _Mine_… There it was again. That same claiming that he insisted meant nothing. Of course this time he used it he had been mad with violence and the scent of her blood. Maybe it didn't mean anything this time.

But no devil used a claim lightly. Even primal beasts understood claims, better sometimes than more intelligent beings. Claims on kills, claims of food, on territory, even on something like a…

"Please, Vergil. You look like shit. Even if it's just for a night, stay at my place. I put some wards up since we last time. It's practically foolproof." He gave a nervous grin that missed the glint in his eyes. His body was tense, as if he was ready to run at any second. Whether he'd run at Vergil or away was still debatable.

Sighing, he turned to look at Aella. She was pale and needed to treat her wounds. He couldn't provide much for her on the streets, but at Dante's place at least she could sleep without the constant worry of a horde dragging her down to Hell in her sleep. He turned back at Dante and gave a grumble of consent.

**RequiemofaFallenAngel**

Aella stared at the insides of Dante's shop with a mixture of apprehension and mild astonishment. She had felt the tendrils of his wards brush past her when she entered; it was like walking through a spider web. So he had invested in some serious wards; the flimsy and almost delicate workings usually took the longest in setting up and were almost always guaranteed to keep out the most unwelcome of folk.

But with an invitation, she and Vergil were now considered welcomed to the wards. They wouldn't need to be welcomed again, just once was enough it seemed.

The cold look Dante slipped to Vergil did not go unnoticed by her either. The younger twin was anxious and twitching. Aella wasn't even considered a threat to him in the least. All his attention, mortal and demonic, was focused solely on his older brother. How long had it been for Dante? The time workings of Hell did not follow the same principles as mortal time. Had it been months? Years? A decade?

By the looks of him, when compared to Vergil, Aella assumed it couldn't be that long. They still gave the impression of being similar in their outward appearances. From the sliver hair to their sharp blue eyes to their structured muscled bodies, it was all so similar.

But she knew better.

Vergil was too stiff when he entered the establishment, his eyes shifting left and right as if he expected a trap. Not once did he look at his living blood relative. Where as Dante wished for nothing more than a glance, Vergil wanted only to leave as soon as possible. They looked alike, but that was all.

Inside these two half-breeds was nothing close to being the same. Aella could smell the honest and good will off of the hunter. He had not thrown a pinch of his humanity away. Vergil's humanity was clingy on for dear life.

"You hungry? Want something to drink?" Dante offered as he moved toward the small refrigerator behind his desk. Before Vergil could protest Aella accepted Dante's offer.

As he moved to grab the refreshments Vergil growled low in her ear, "You'll regret it." She gave him a bored look. Vergil's agitation was a palpable thing. It tasted foul and thick in the air as Dante came back to her. He held a box in one hand and a couple of brown bottles in the other.

Before she could inquire what he thought sustenance really was Dante gave her a sheepish grin, "Sorry, but all I have is cold pizza and cold beer." He passed a bottle to her and she took it before it slipped and shattered. He opened the box and took a slice of congealed cheese and something that once had been a meat product. Half of it vanished in his first bite.

Aella had never had pizza before, nor had she every indulged in alcohol. The former because it wasn't really apart of the restricted diet of Hell; the later because it didn't matter to Heaven-born, they couldn't get drunk.

Vergil made an unpleasant face at the meal. "Still?" He sounded exasperated more so than angry. "Is that all you eat? Cold pizza and beer? It's like you haven't changed a bit." The last part could have been an insult but Vergil couldn't seem to pull it off.

Aella smiled at him, "I've never had pizza before." She looked back at the still open box.

"Then wait until he buys a new box."

"Hey, don't bash it 'til you try it!" Dante defended his eating habits with a nervous smile and a bulge in his cheek. It was like he was sure he would set Vergil off somehow and his brother would leave again, forever. Which was completely understandable, Aella supposed. Even though she didn't know the story between them, their behavior was not odd to her in the least.

Aella took the smallest slice she could and was surprised to see Vergil grab the next smallest. She eyed him and he shrugged, "If I eat it fast enough I'm sure I won't taste it." Of course he would never admit that he was starving as much as she was. They hadn't eaten anything in perhaps days. Not since they left the Land at the very least.

Dante gave a small choke, like he thought about laughing then thought against it. He turned away to put the box on the most disorganized desk Aella had ever seen. She was sure the stacks of papers and magazines would topple over from the added bulk of the box, but nothing tipped.

There was an awkward and tense silence as she and Vergil gnawed at their dinner. Vergil was wrong, she could taste it no matter how fast or slow she ate it. The silence stretched and grew as no one said anything and everyone avoided eye-contact. It was nearing unbearable.

But the double doors burst open a second before she felt her nerves fray away. A woman, in a crisp and oddly flashy suit stood in the entryway with her hands on her hips. Bushy and wild dark chocolate hair flipped away from her head in an accidentally stylish way. She wore shades even though it was dark out, and her full lips were stained a girly pink. Her white, pin-stripped suit consisted of a jacket, plunging low to show quite a bit of skin, and a pair of shorts that cover only just enough. Her ankle boots looked like real leather and they gleamed in the dull lighting.

But the two pistols strapped to her hips and the bazooka lounging on her back caught Aella's attention right away. The little white scars peaking around the clothing, the bandage around one hand; this woman was a hunter. Same as Dante, she reeked of innocence and the need to uphold justice.

"Trying to steal from me, Dante?" She snarled at the half-breed in red as she strode into the establishment without a flicker from the wards.

She smelled like a mortal. But there was ash tainting her scent.

"No Lady! Why would I ever think of stealing from you?" Dante held his hands up as the woman made a b-line towards him. Aella caught the murderous glint in her eyes.

One was a deep blue, the other a dark and muted red.

"So I suppose the money you owe me just _happened_ to have never existed? Is that what you're telling me?" Though she was quite angry, there was a smirk to her pink lips and the smell of roses filled the space she passed, covering the tainted smell of ash.

Dante gave another nervous chuckle, but it was an act. He wasn't afraid of the woman at all. "You see, Lady, I was _going_ to pay you back this week. But something came up and I…uh…forgot."

"You…forgot…" She shook her head as she slipped the shades off. "I'm not stupid, Dante. I want my money. I've got bills to pay, food to buy, you know." She jabbed a slender finger into his leather trench, the nail cut short but clean.

He scratched behind his head as he shuffled his feet, and was that a blush on his cheeks? "I know, I know. I'm sorry Lady." With a flash of a boyish grin he took a step into her personal space and lightly gripped her pointed chin. "I promise I'll find a way to pay you back." His voice had dropped several octaves, as he tried to pull the charm over her.

The woman only flashed a set of very white teeth, "You better." She slapped his hand away and only then did she realize that Aella and Vergil were standing right there. And Aella did not miss the cold, burning hatred in the woman's aura as she glared up at Vergil.

Without meaning to Aella moved slightly – oh so very slightly – in front of Vergil. This mortal woman could not even dream to hurt Vergil in any way. And it wasn't like he would need her help if it came to that. But something inside Aella, the same possessive creature that awoke when she first met his icy eyes, screamed for her to keep this mortal away from this man. It was ridiculous and totally absurd, but for some reason Aella felt like she had to listen to it.

_Instinct_ told her to protect this man.

And when was the last time Instinct let her down?

If she had listened to Instinct when she had been younger…

The woman's scowl of hatred never wavered from Vergil. Instead of having her back off or divert her attention, the woman pulled out her two pistols and pinned them at Vergil's head.

Well if she wanted to insult Aella, she just achieved her goal.

With a flicker of movement, too fast for the foolish mortal to see, Aella kicked both weapons out of her hands. They flew across the room hitting the wall with a mild crack. The mortal blinked her multicolored eyes in confusion then again in fury as she looked at Aella for the first time.

It was petty and beneath her, but Aella reminded herself she had done worst things.

She gave her best feral grin. The one she used only to please the one being she hoped never to see again. Even though she was shorter by a pocket full of change, Aella looked down at her. Looked down at her mortality. Degrading the fragility with her eyes. And she shoved the slightest bit of her power into completing the affect.

With her eyes burning with dark energy, and her fangs bared, Aella shamelessly enjoyed the scent of fear tainting the air just as the woman's perfume had.

"You've proved your point." Dante's voice was hard as he put a hand on the woman's shoulder. His eyes were bright as he trained them on the angel.

Tilting her head to the side she regarded the mortal and Dante's behavior. It was as if…

"Aella." Vergil's voice was thick with something not at all related to the fear clotting the shop. He spoke low, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he bent over her smaller body. One hand was hovering over her shoulder as the other barely slid against her jean-clad thigh.

Oh… Oops…

Aella pulled back. Closing her eyes and locking her power up. She avoided eye-contact with the woman as she carefully detached herself from Vergil. Still, she made sure she was between the mortal and the eldest son of Sparda.

Dante kept his muted gaze on her as he pulled the mortal farther from his guests. Slowly, she shook off the remnants of the angel's power. "What is _he_ doing here?" She snarled but did not look at either of them.

"He's my brother, Lady. He needs a place to stay." An apology was just making its way to the light, but Dante shoved it down with his next sentence, "I'm not turning him away." He glanced at Aella for a fleeting second before he stared at Vergil. "Either of them, I'm not going to throw them out.

"Ok, this is Lady." He pointed at the mortal as the nerves seemed to come back to him. "She's a hunter like me. You can trust her." He turned toward his partner, "Right?"

"Sure," She hissed at him. "But I'm doubling you're debt. Making me sit in a room with _him_." She jutted her chin at Vergil but quickly pulled back before Aella's creature emerged.

"Good." Dante grinned but it didn't show in his eyes. "So, um…" He glanced between his guests before he shrugged, "Lady and…" he made a small motion, asking for her name. Aella grimaced at the idea of giving either Dante or Lady her name.

"Angel." Vergil supplied for his nervous and annoying brother. Why couldn't he just have made it here without being caught? Maybe if he had killed the Nightshades before he lost it with Aella's blood, he could have gotten them out of sight.

But no.

He just had to stumble. He just had to get caught.

Not only that, but to make it so much worst Mary had to be here too. Of course she did. It was just like Fate to kick him when he was down. And "Lady?" What was that all about? And the way Dante touched her and joked with her… Made him sick really.

Of course if she hadn't shown up, he would have never felt the terrible power of Aella giving the woman a supernatural bitch-slap. Unintentionally, he was sure, she practically claimed him in demon terms. He knew it didn't count since she didn't know, but still…he felt her power surge and erupt inside him. There were still tingles left from the aftereffects.

All probably thanks to their still new bonding.

Dante was feeling it too, not the tingles but the power; he could see it in the way he looked at her. Claimings coming from powerful beings, like a fallen, tended to effect not just the participating party, but all other witnesses within a certain radius. Vergil stamped out the beginnings of a growl. Dante wasn't so primal as to attack Aella. He wasn't asking for a death wish or anything.

"Angel?" Lady scoffed. "That's not her-"

"As far as you're concerned, it is." He didn't even glance at her. She was insignificant. All he was here for was a place to sleep and Yamato. Once he had both, he'd be on his way and out of their hair. Whether Dante wanted it or not, didn't matter. As far as Vergil was concern, they should have never seen each other.

"Ok," Dante shrugged, "sure. Angel, you and Lady can sleep upstairs." He gave Vergil a sharp look.

"She won't hurt her." He answered.

His brother nodded stiffly, "we can crash down here." He gestured to the couch behind the pool table. Vergil really hoped there was another one. There was no way he was going to share a pull out with his brother he tried to murder in cold blood. Some things just were never going to happen.

Lady made an unladylike snort of disbelief. He watched Aella straighten her spine – he didn't think it could go any straighter – and gave Lady a cold, flat look, "I assure you, so long as you don't endanger my companion here, no harm will come to you." Subtle power tinted her words. The Truth of her sentence settled over Lady, no matter how mortal she was she would know she could trust those words.

She of course could always choose whether to believe her instincts or not. The beauty of free will really could bite sometimes.

Slowly Aella moved first, giving Lady, Dante, and Vergil her back as she climbed the stairs. A sign of trust in the most primal of worlds, Lady may not have noticed the act but the half-breeds did. Dante immediately released at least half the tension in his body. Vergil only sneered as she moved farther away from him.

"And there's a shower up there too," Dante called as Lady cautiously followed his brother's companion.

More silence filled the space once the females left them. Vergil cursed Fate. Why did his brother have to see him? Why did Aella accept his offer to stay? Yes, it made sense, logic never really steered him wrong before. They needed rest and Dante's wards would keep anything from coming in. He provided food and knew where Vergil sword was, saving him the trouble of looking for it.

But he still cursed the luck of it.

"So," Dante muttered as he tossed the cushions behind him to pull out the couch, "I figured you could take the couch and I'll-"

"Don't be foolish." Vergil sighed, too tired to growl now. "It's your home. I've slept in worse places than the floor." He settled against the wall, next to the couch.

Dante frowned, "Yeah and I'm not going to let you sleep on the floor. You're my brother."

"That doesn't mean a thing." As soon as the words left, Vergil wished beyond any reason that he just kept his sharp tongue silent.

But it didn't hamper his brother like he thought, "Don't be an ass. You'll sleep on the couch. You look like shit and you seriously need the sleep. Tomorrow you should take a shower too. I mean, you've obviously didn't _just_ get back. You've been wondering, planning. Did it ever occur to you that you needed a shower?" The hunter glared down at his older brother, there was pain in his eyes.

Vergil groaned in annoyance. "Fine. Just to shut you up. I swear you are just as whinny as when I left." He moved toward the pull out and sat on the edge of it. "And where are you going to sleep?" Telling himself he didn't really care did not make it sound any more real.

He jerked a thumb at the leather chair behind the great oak desk. Vergil wished for nothing more than for Dante to stop looking at him. He wasn't going to vanish in thin air. There weren't any portals nearby to throw himself in, not that he would. Of course Dante didn't know he was on the run.

"You going to take that off?" Vergil looked down at his shredded clothing. The shirt was completely unsalvageable. It surprised him it actually stayed on as long as it had. His jeans were a bloody mess, but none of it was his.

He merely ripped the cloth off his chest and tossed it on the floor at his feet. The jeans were going to be a problem. No spare clothes left him with little option but to sleep in them for now.

Dante came up to him with a pair of black pants in one hand and a faded red tee in the other. Before Vergil could say anything, Dante tossed the clothing onto the bed beside his brother and stalked over to his chair. He settled in and closed his eyes.

Vergil didn't even feel him leave the room.

He was too still to be asleep but Vergil took the offered privacy and changed quickly. Whether he would admit it out loud or not didn't mean a thing; Dante was right about the shower. He would seriously need to bathe tomorrow.

As he relaxed against the stiff bedding, Vergil listened to the movements coming from upstairs. Aella was in bed and if he concentrated hard enough, Vergil could hear her body sinking into the mattress to sleep for the first time since they left the Land. Something dark and anxious paced with controlled fury inside his mind. Even though they were only feet from each other Vergil wanted her against him. He craved for the feel of her body against his.

She was his woman, whether she knew it or not. She was supposed to be with him, to lie next to him. Why had Dante asked her and the mortal woman to sleep upstairs? Why had she agreed? Aella clearly did not like Mary. She nearly attacked her with fangs and claws.

Vergil didn't stop the grin at that thought. It would be a moment he would always keep. A sweet memory, there were so few in his life.

With that last thought Vergil began drifting easily off to sleep.

**So this one was like twelve pages long in Word. I cut it here but I'm not happy with it. Anyway, I must thank all who favorited and/or reviewed! It really makes me so proud of this piece when y'all say what you do about it! ^_^**

**Oh, and I won't wait long for the next chapter, since it was kinda made to go together anyway. **

**What do ya think about Lady and Dante? Did I do right by them? I think Dante is fun and easy to write, but Lady is kind of hard. You'd think she'd be easy, but I'm so use to writing from a demon's point of view that mortals become unfamiliar to me… ^_^**


	9. Chapter 9

Bad Dreams

Darkness. Nothing but darkness stretching in every direction endlessly. So much darkness, so thick and heavy and suffocating and so very cold. This Darkness, it was familiar. He knew this darkness. Knew it like a brother, like a lover. This kind of darkness was unique, special. There was no other like it.

This darkness belonged in Hell. Something this cold and repulsive came straight from the deepest bowels of the worst plane of existence. Looking for him, maybe? It was all around him, suffocating, its cold clenches squeezing at his lungs as if there was no skin, or muscle, to protect them. Restricting his thoughts, leaving him naked and weak.

Vergil let out a panicked shout. He felt the darkness retreat as the realization that he wasn't dying reassured him. Yes, the darkness was still there, but it wasn't life-threatening. A warning? Was the prince close? Was he trying to tell Vergil something? Trying to scare him?

Carefully Vergil loosened his hold on his awareness, if he could sense something it could sense him too. There was no way he could prepare himself for an attack, he couldn't see a thing or hear a single sound. Not even the softest breathe from his own body reached his sensitive ears.

After several heartbeats, Vergil pulled his awareness back and locked it up.

The darkness moved against his skin, testing the barriers of his body and mind. It felt like cooled glass, smooth and frighteningly cold. Then it began to push at him from behind; it wanted to show him something. With great caution, his Instincts alarmingly absent, Vergil took a tentative step foreword, then several more when the pulsing behind him grew insistent.

A sound reached his ears; though it was soft it was the loudest thing Vergil ever heard.

Aella was gasping. She was in pain. He rushed at the darkness in front of him and it pulled away like a theater curtain.

His angel lay broken and naked before him. Her clothing was completely absent, body bruised and bleeding. Red hair spilled out around her mixing with the growing puddle of blood. She gasped again and groaned as something slithered toward her from the darkness. It moved with quick, jerky movements, like a snake. But its red eyes were focused with the kinds of evil intent animals did not possess.

One razor claw traced a thin line along her bare arm, leaving her life's liquid to ooze and trickle from the cut. It matched the same wound as the hundreds covering her body. Aella tried to shove the thing away with the little strength she had and earned herself a malevolent laughter at her weak attempts.

Then another creature slipped from the darkness, followed by several more. They crawled leisurely, like they had all the time in the world to torture his angel. Vergil surged foreword intending to destroy every last one of the monstrosities. But they sensed him. As if moving like one being every last creature seized Aella by whatever part of her they could touch and began dragging her into the darkness they were spawned from.

And she tried to fight them. A terrible pain exploded in Vergil's chest at the sight of her fighting the creatures. She kicked and screamed and thrashed, but it made little difference. They never even noticed her struggles.

It felt like he wasn't even running! He pushed his body, felt the beginnings of the Trigger as he thirsted for blood and vengeance and fire. But it was like he couldn't move an inch. There wasn't any slow-motion like most dreams. Vergil just didn't move!

He caught her bright green eyes, full of terror and crushing despair. The creatures began to slice at her as he watched. Her blood flowed in rivulets and splashed onto the black floor, but it was incredibly bright and glowed as if touched by phosphorous. The scent of it drove him mad. He would loose his mind before she even bled out!

"AELLA!"

"Vergil! Vergil! Dammit, man, wake up!"

Vergil punched at the voice yelling at him. He wasn't important! Aella needed him; she was dying somewhere and needed him!

"Shit, man!" Dante nearly shouted as he clutched at his jaw and sprawled out on the floor. "You were dreaming, Vergil. You were about to Trigger while asleep! Do you know how stupid that-"

Vergil pushed out of the bed. He rushed past his foolish brother and practically flew up the stairs. He could smell her, hear her steady heartbeat. He wasn't too late! She would be fine; he would slaughter the creatures and not leave a scrap of them behind for their master to find.

With a solid kick backed with too much force, Vergil detached the door from its hinges. There were two narrow beds cramped in the small room; on the closest, Mary stirred with blurry vision. She glared at Vergil, opened her mouth to scream at him. But he didn't have time for that. She was unimportant, a nuisance, an irritation grating on his nerves.

She only gave a short shriek of incense as he grabbed her upper arm and flung her out of the room with little effort or care. Her body hit the wall with a dull thud and she was in the middle of a curse when he found Aella.

She was sitting up with the sheets discarded at her side. "Vergil?" her voice was thick and she blinked twice to focus her attention. In two strides he was at her side and grasped the mattress with one hand, steadying the bed with the other. With one sharp jerk the mattress, with a confused and still groggy Aella also, was discarded to the middle of the small space. Vergil gripped the bed frame and dragged it to the door.

Mary was just picking herself up and he could hear Dante making his way upstairs. He didn't need either of them, could have them around. Aella could be endangered and he was not going to leave her vulnerable to the hunters. He slammed the door on the woman's useless and crude complaints and pinned the bed frame to the wall, one leg going right through the drywall.

Their voices were muffled and Vergil snarled at them, "Shut up! Leave her alone!" When Dante's voice quieted Mary's, Vergil finally turned back to his woman.

She sat straighter as his gaze settled on her. She was wide awake and slightly frightened now. Vergil was sorry about scaring her, but he needed to be sure. He needed to know!

A second later he was kneeling beside her, Aella flinched involuntarily. His hold was firm and slightly painful as he grabbed her by an arm. She thought he was going to bite her or something, or at least yell at her for making them stay at his brother's home. But after a moment Aella opened her eyes to find Vergil turning her arms one way, and then the other. He stared at her bare arm with furious intent and extreme focus. His eyes were dilated and the little color she could see was a rim of glowing, electric blue.

His eyebrows furrowed deeply as he searched for something Aella could not see. His mouth was set in a grim line, his jaw tight.

Concern…

Aella could feel it more than see it in his dark expression. He was concerned about something, about something doing with her arms, her skin. Vergil examined her other arm with as much serious dedication as the first, not once did he meet her eyes.

Something inside Aella melted. She could feel an impossibly, pleasant warmth fill her chest. He was scared that there was something wrong. He was worried about her.

Aella shoved him away. It took more effort than normal because he barely noticed her pushing at first. He looked hurt for one agonizing second before she crawled out of his reach and stood in the light given by the half-moon by the one tiny window. His frown deepened as she threw off the shirt she barrowed from a small collection Lady left here. When it was out of the way, she spread her arms out for Vergil to see every bit of her unblemished skin.

"It's ok, Vergil." She said as he moved slowly closer to her, like a wary animal expecting a trap. "I'm fine, see, there's nothing wrong. I'm not hurt. I'm fine." She repeated the words over and over again for him in a calming tone meant for frightened animals. His hands were too hot as they slid against her bare skin. Even though it wasn't erotic in the least, Aella wanted nothing more than to run her hands through his wild silver hair and hold him close to her.

It took almost an hour before Vergil began changing back to his original self. The transformation happened slowly so Aella took note of every small detail. His eyes shrank back to normal, but the glow stayed. His features softened, then hardened again without the worry lines. His shoulders smoothed out and his back straightened.

But the bright blue glow stayed, and grew slightly darker when he finally met her gaze.

"Just a dream…" He trailed off as he took a step back from her.

"A dream? Vergil, what did you dream?" She brushed the back of her knuckles against his palm before he withdrew from her completely – a small gesture demons used when seeking comfort. He grasped it with surprising fierceness.

"You were bleeding."

She wished he would look at her, but he was talking about something personal and Aella felt it was safe to say that she knew Vergil well-enough to know that he didn't like speaking about anything personal. "What else?"

"There were these creatures that came for you. I couldn't do anything." He looked back at her body: a quick check to make sure it was still just a dream.

"Was it dark, Vergil?" her voice sounded raw with urgency.

"The darkness? Yeah, it was there." To him though, that wasn't the worst of it. The darkness shouldn't even have been brought up, probably, according to him.

She hissed, "Vergil!" He looked into her eyes, his glowing as his arms rubbed up and down her arms. "No, I'm still fine," She took a strong hold of his hands. "You've been poisoned! He poisoned you, Vergil!" He frowned and Aella could practically hear the protests in her head. "It's true. The Nightshades were probably a host for the dream virus." She dropped his hands to hold his face in her hands.

She stared at his eyes, flicking from one to the other. The glow of his demonic nature was probably masking the virus from her sight. "I need to purify it before you go insane from the dreams," even as she said it, the words sounded impossible. A fallen couldn't purify anything, not alone anyway, but there was no running water to help her now.

_You don't need running water, my storm._

If Aella hadn't known better she would have thought Gallus was talking to her through a mental link. But he severed that link a long time ago. There was no way he would talk to her now, anyway. After he tricked the bonding, owed Vergil his favor, he was finished with her…

The bonding…

Aella didn't need running water to do anything! She shared a special link with Vergil that nothing could destroy; Gallus would have made sure his favor was foolproof! He would make sure that the two of them were bonded until the end of time. He was thorough like that.

"Vergil," she said, still holding his face, "I need you to stand very still. I'm going to flush the virus out." Before he could question her, she surged foreword and kissed Vergil with the same focused detachment that he showed her when he was searching for scars.

Her indifferent resolve crumbled to dust the second Vergil's arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her flush against his body. The burn was unexpectedly wonderful. Vergil was too warm for normal mortal temperatures, but it had nothing to do with a fever. There was a reason why his eyes continued to glow, even though the immediate threat was clarified. She was half-naked practically begging for him to take her.

Aella tried again to ignore him as his tongue delved into her mouth and stroked her soft pallet. It was useless; she couldn't avoid him when he did such distracting things! And when she moaned at the taste of him, she felt the twitching of a smirk on his lips. Finally, Aella allowed herself the pleasure of running her hands through his hair. She caught a tangle half-way through but didn't mind. She wasn't planning on detaching herself anytime soon.

Without pulling away completely, Vergil gave her a moment to breath. It was short-lived because as soon as he heard her gasp he pushed her lightly against the wall next to the window. When her bare back hit the cold wall, she hissed. The half-demon slid his hands up her back from wherever they had been to block out the cold.

Not quite so subtly, Aella groped at Vergil's chest, pulling at the tee and slipping it over his head and discarding it onto the floor. Vergil pulled back for a second to catch his breath but Aella wasn't in the mood to breathe, there were so many other things that needed her attention. She sucked and nibbled at his neck, enjoying the small noises he made at her efforts. But the insistent prickling along the nape of her neck reminded her that she had been doing something very important.

Aella brought her lips back to Vergil's and thought solely on the act of purging the virus from his system. It was difficult, considering it was her first time working without any running water. Eventually she came to recognize the slithering current of darkness coursing through his bloodstream. It was too familiar to hide from her.

She pushed at the darkness and lightly pushed at Vergil's body at the same time. When the virus tried to scurry away from her, Aella's mental grip on it cause her the surge forward and with a sharp twist she had the virus pinned. As well as Vergil. She had him trapped between her body and the wall. But there was time for Vergil in a minute. Aella forced the virus out like she would have done using the water. She focused her power to corner the darkness then flushed it out like she was cleaning a wound.

In a matter of moments she was sweating and panting and Vergil was completely free of the virus.

He felt the change immediately.

His lips became insistent, his hands roamed freely. Aella gasped from his skillful lips as they pulled at the flesh on her throat. Her vision was getting hazy and she wanted nothing more than to throw Vergil down on the mattress and have her way with him. But he would need to rest; she needed proof that what she had done actually worked.

"_Vergil_," she whispered in his mind, a small caress to his skull.

He ignored her as he began kissing his way farther down her chest. He brushed his lips across her collarbone and left a trail of fire from there to the top of her breasts. It was intoxicating. Aella had never felt so many emotions flowing so freely through her before. It was like the most exquisite of highs.

But he needed to be healthy before they did anything like this. If the darkness was still there, the consequences could be drastically horrifying.

"Vergil," she was firmer this time, pulling at his hair and bringing his eyes to her level before he went too far for her to listen to reason. "You need to sleep," she watched the workings of a protest and she quickly hurried on, "We need sleep. I haven't slept in days. Come on, Vergil." She took his hand away from the edges of her sleep pants and led him to the mattress. How had he tossed it so far with her on it?

A rumbling growl resonated behind her and Aella stifled a grin, he could really be a child sometimes. "Look, you can sleep with me if that will help." She sat down first and tried to drag him down to her. He glared at her with a serious accusation on the bridge of his tongue. Aella shrug one shoulder and smirked as his eyes grew a shade darker. Such a cruel woman she could be sometimes. Then she lay out across the mattress and pulled the discarded sheets up to her chest.

"I'm tired Vergil. I need sleep." When he didn't say anything she sighed inwardly. He was going to make her say it. It would be the only way, he knew she knew it. "Would you sleep with me?"

The tension lifted and Aella swore she could feel the smirk on his face as he settle down next to her, laying an arm across her stomach.

Vergil couldn't say if he was happy or not, but he was incredibly please that he got her to actually say it. She needed him to sleep for some strange and damnable reason, but he got her to admit that she wanted him with her. He could've slept downstairs, could've let Dante and Mary know that everything was alright. But she didn't want him to leave, she said it out loud!

And Vergil had been complaining earlier, had he not? That he wanted her beside him, that it was where she was supposed to be? Because this was where she should be, lying against him. Wanting him and only him. She was his. Completely and totally his, until the end of time. He was hers too; he would never consider an alternative.

As his woman sighed and settled closer to him enfolding her fingers with his, Vergil grinned with actual happiness for the first time in so very long. No one saw it, he made sure Aella never even felt it, but it was there and he knew it. Aella could make him happy. _When_ they were no longer on the run, he would take her somewhere peaceful, somewhere so that no demon could ever find her.

**RequiemofaFallenAngel**

Sparda, the once Great Demon Lord, felt something warm touch his chest. It was the first unthreatening touch he experienced since his demise. For a second he believed it was another trick of Beelz's. But he knew the difference between lies and truth.

The warmth was truer than the very air he breathed.

"Sparda, you must wake up now." He lift his head but for a moment, an incredible feat considering how maimed and broken his body was. But for _that_ voice, he would do anything.

"My love, our son needs you."

**RequiemofaFallenAngel**

"Damn him." Dante growled while Lady gently took a hold of his chin. She dabbed the antiseptic as carefully as she could to the split lip. Dante only snarled some more and pushes her away.

"It'll get infected." She deadpanned at his childish antics.

"How do _you _know it'll get infected?" he spat darkly, glaring at the small cut in a handheld mirror, the only one in the house in fact. "For all you know, my awesome demon blood prevents me from infections."

"I've seen it happen before." Lady sighed and put the first aid kit back in a drawer in Dante's desk. She groaned as she straightens. Damn Vergil, throwing her into a wall as if her bones weren't breakable… It was only a bruise, of course. Lady was not a fragile creature by any means. Didn't make it hurt any less, of course.

Dante stood and walked, rather quickly, to his companion's side. "Why didn't you tell me-"

"It isn't a big deal." She rushed ahead of him. Honestly! He could be such a nag sometimes.

"Yeah, but-"

"Dante, I'm fine. I promise. It's just a bruise and it's just my shoulder." She shrugged, and regretted it instantly. _Shit!_ By the look on Dante's face he was either going to grope her at such a close proximity, or he was going to try and make her feel even more… human.

But he didn't do either, much to Lady's surprise. He never missed an opportunity to take advantage of the situation. He only sighed and plopped back into his swivel chair, propping his feet on the worn wood of the desk. With a brooding expression, he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the locked front doors.

He was thinking about his brother. Lady sighed and did something she rarely ever did. She sat in Dante's lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. Physical contact was something Lady despised and something Dante desperately needed when he was depressed. She could suck it up for him. She always did.

After the initial stiffness that came over him at her unusual displays of affection, Dante unfolded his arms and tried to relax. "I never thought my brother would actually take a mate."

"That woman is his mate?" Lady scoffed. To Dante's inquiring eyebrow she said, "I asked her what their relationship was and she said they were 'apparently brothers-in-arms.' When I asked what _that_ meant, she only said that they had a common enemy and a common destination."

"Brothers-in-arms…"

Lady frowned at Dante's sorrowful expression. "Obviously she was lying." She offhandedly, as if she didn't care. But she did. She cared a lot about this woman. She pissed Lady off somehow, offended her on some basic and primal level.

"With the way Vergil's acting, I'm positive she's his lover."

"No, not his lover." Dante said, but he sounded distracted like he was talking to himself. "She's his mate, but they haven't consummated it yet. Why?"

"Consummated?" Lady exclaimed, a blush racing across her cheeks and running down her neck. Dante felt her body temperature rise, the scent of embarrassment and slight fear permeating the air. His demon roared at the knowledge. He told his demon to shut it.

"Yeah. Like in a marriage." His grin was lecherous. "It's the equivalent to the honeymoon." Knowing he was definitely making her uncomfortable, Dante brushed the side of his face against her flushed neck. "And you know what goes on during the honeymoon, don't cha, Lady?"

She shivered. It was almost his undoing.

He pulled back and turned away from her, pretending to snicker at her expense. She shrieked indignantly, earning himself a slap to the back of the head. "You – You – You didn't…" She scrambled off of him in a matter of heartbeats; he could have pulled her back if he _really_ wanted to.

"S-sorry, Lady. You're just so much fun!" He jested, more to himself than to his partner. If he didn't have such an iron-clad control…

Once Lady was safely – according to whose perspective you're looking at – on the opposite side of the desk she brushed the joke as if it never happened. The reason why Dante had to keep it up, she always forgot what he tried so hard to establish. Boundaries. And for her to shrug it off as if it were nothing was becoming a bad joke from the Fates. If she could only remember that he was a womanizing, selfish pig, than she wouldn't put the two of them in these situations.

"So, what're you going to do with them?" Lady asked, her voice only shook a little bit.

The half-breed groaned. "I suppose I'll try to keep my brother here. I have what he's looking for after all."

"You mean, Yamato?"

"Yeah. He'll want it for whatever God-awful thing he's planning. I'm going to talk him out of it or keep him from doing it."

"You could try angling with '_Angel'_." Lady sneered her name with a nasty look on her face. She was probably harboring some wounded pride from the incident when Angel defended her mate's honor. Dante frowned, if _that_ wasn't a dead give-a-way, then there wasn't anything else more incriminating.

"I could," Dante answered with an exasperated sigh, "but there's a reason why she's his mate, you know. There'd be no angling with her." He shook his head.

There was something else about 'Angel' that he just didn't get. She wasn't human, not at all. But she wasn't a demon, though there was enough filth on her scent to prove otherwise. Something about her eyes, why did they reach out to his humanity…so…strongly? He had the unreasonable desire to kneel before her and cry…and he knew she would accept him. Knew deep down that she could save him, somehow.

Lady yawned and crashed onto the old pull out. He grinned at the sight of her pulling the sheets out from under her body with one hand. She growled and groaned in frustration before Dante finally pushed her onto her back and pulled the sheets up to her chest.

She smiled, her two-tone eyes glittering. "Thanks, Dante," she murmured before falling asleep. So she hid her tiredness from him easily? That was odd of him not to have noticed how exhausted she was.

Dante settled back into his chair, staring at the ceiling with a dark frown. Vergil was back, and with a freakin' mate at that, and he was on the run from something. It didn't pass Dante the weirdness of the Nightshades. They were smart. Like, demon-class smart. Like the kind of smarts meant for a creature that could think on it's own, kinda smarts.

And then there was Vergil's dream.

It wasn't uncommon for half-breeds to dream, as much as Dante knew anyway. He dreamed all the time. When he was sick, when he was worried, when he had a bad slice of pizza, when Lady was over…he dreamed.

But for Vergil to Trigger into his demon-form? That was unheard of.

A half-breed's subconscious didn't comprehend the function to Trigger. It was a choice, kind of thing. Like, if Dante chose to Trigger, he could do so – under the appropriate circumstances. He needed to feel angry, a lot of it, and he needed to have a good fuckin' reason to do something so stupid. Like, if he was dying and the ass-hole that was killing him started to monologue instead of just ending it, yeah he'd Trigger.

It wasn't a light thing to do.

But his brother was going to do it in his sleep if Dante hadn't woken him. And a good lot that did him.

Dante rubbed at his chin, the pain in his lip flared angrily.

So this 'Angel' had to be pretty fuckin' special for Vergil to have sleep-Triggered. That, and he practically locked the two of them in his bedroom.

None of Dante's wards had gone off, but Vergil was seriously acting like a mate in protective mode. Whatever happened in Vergil's dream, Dante was sure it was linked with the woman.

But all of that aside, Dante was not going to lose his brother. Not by some mate, not by some deviant wish to be the King of Hell. Not by any damned reason would he lose Vergil again. He probably wouldn't survive it this time around.

**So I really like Dante. He's another reason why this story is Rated M. He curses a lot. But he's easy to write and so much less complex than Vergil! ^_^ I hope having Dante explain a few things was easy to understand. He's an easy-going kind of guy, I figured I'd have his point of view be the same way. **

**Again, please leave me a lovely review. Thanks!**


	10. Chapter 10

Contract

He wasn't asleep, Vergil knew that much, but he was weightless and surrounded by wisps of mist that neither felt cold nor wet. He was somewhat vertical and there was a comforting warmth that this place pulsed with. A soft glow of light urged him in a foreword motion and Vergil wondered vaguely if he had died sometime within the last twenty-four hours.

"No, you're not dead. But if you were, you think you would end up in a place like this?" A tall man, 6 foot and some change, with curly dark brown hair ruffling his shoulders and bright aqua blue eyes stared down at Vergil from his perch on a ruined column. From the markings and design Vergil guessed it was Roman.

With the sound of another being's presence, Vergil's weightlessness gradually faded until he stood in the middle of a decrepit ruin of a Roman temple. The roof was missing complete, piles of rocks were scattered across the cracked floor, and few of the columns were left standing. Vergil couldn't find evidence of an alter of any kind, but with the mountains of debris he wasn't surprised.

The half-breed turned his attention to the man scowling down at him in disgust. He was slightly tanned and only wore a lose pair of Arabian-styled black plants and dark blue sash wrapped tightly around his trim waist. He was bare foot and adorned or jewelry or tattoo. But he was huge and menacing, nonetheless. The man's muscles had muscles; Vergil smirked in his crude humor.

"Don't think for a second I will not harm you." The man growled. Vergil quirked an eyebrow at him. "No, I can't read you're mind. You're just an open book, _tainted_."

Ah…That word…He hadn't heard in since his childhood…Such an ugly word to call half-breeds, and frightfully unimaginative.

"Who are you?" Vergil inquired, freezing his blood and leaving the man with a cold mask, the one he was so skilled at wielding.

"You may call me Vesper, if you so like." The man answered, and it sounded as if it pained him to do so. "Mortals have such a fixation on Naming everything." He spat the word _mortal_ as if it were a curse. Vergil took note that as soon as his cold mask was in place, _Vesper's _mood turned sullen.

"It's a comfort thing, I suppose." Vergil answered, though the question was rhetorical he still felt obligated to defend that half of himself, so strange that he would suddenly be defending the weakest part of him he so desperately wished to be free of. "So, why are you here?"

At this, the man's upper lip curled back. "I have come with a warning to you, Son of Sparda." Vergil figured the man knew who he was, why else was he sucking up his oh so precious pride to speak to him?

"Oh? I don't usually get a warning from those about to kill me." He leaned against one of the upright columns, his eyes pinning Vesper down. "A bit refreshing I must admit."

"I am not the one who will kill you," he looked as if this disappointed him somewhat, "but I am no friend either." At this he paused and a great fury suddenly overtook his composure. But it was wiped clean a second later, his features hard like marble. It seemed that he had a great leash on his emotions and that there was something he didn't want Vergil to see in his eyes.

"You're an Angel." Vergil hissed. It was becoming alarming unclear how he was supposed to react to such creatures now. The only two were not without their biases. Gastoff was a lying, surly old man who knew and liked his father but barely tolerated and chastised Vergil – dare he say – like he was family. Aella…well, she went without saying…

Vesper sneered and scowled as he reined his distain in and contemplated his words. After a long pause and a twitch or two from his left eye he said, "I am-" Then his upper lip curled back from his teeth, showing a bright set of pearly white fangs, just a dainty as Aella's. "I am here as messenger to deliver you Vergil, eldest Son of Sparda, a warning."

Vergil spat, "What _kind _of warning?" He did a pretty great job of hiding his discomfort at the formal title.

"The Fallen is not yours." Vesper choked the word out as if it pained him somehow, were all Heaven-born so sensitive? "You must not lose yourself to the taint."

Well, he had been offended. Aella was fallen and she was therefore tainted, all true. But to say the she was a _disease_ that could spread was just disgusting. What kind of message was this? "Who is your employer?" the half-breed questioned in a mild tone, his fury burning under the surface. Though it was an obvious question Virgil needed to hear it out loud.

"The Great I Am." The angel bowed slightly at the name and Vergil noticed his hard features soften.

"And your God makes a habit of labeling all fallen as trash?" He scoffed, "you know, he reminds me of this one guy… Kinda has a way with words, owns his own little spot down there-"

"BLASPHEMEY!" the angel cried.

But Vergil wasn't done, "She wants to be better. Does your employer know that? She's sorry, really torn up about it too." He gave the man his own snarl, backing it up with his barely contained fury and demonic nature. "Don't you _ever_ show your face in front of me again! You and your God will _not _tell me what to do!"

With that, Vergil turned his back on the angel and strode out of the temple ruins…

…And realized that a half-naked Aella was trying her best to slip out of his embrace as stealthily as possible. He let her get an inch from her goal before he tightened his grip and brought her bare back right against his chest. She flopped unceremoniously and quite humorously back onto the mattress and into his arms.

She protested for a moment before giving up entirely. If she wanted it that much, she could have detached herself without a problem, he would never hold her captive unwillingly. But waking up in Vergil's arms had been a delightful experience, one that she could say with complete honesty that she wouldn't mind reliving again, several times if she were lucky. He was so peaceful when asleep, his features soft, not a worry evident.

Of course, who was she to stroke his ego?

She huffed at him, breathing red hair out of her face. "Vergil," she warned in a short growl.

He chuckled darkly as his nose brushed the sensitive hairs on the back of her neck. "You owe me, my dear." A fang graced against her skin and Aella frowned hard enough to keep her excitement contained. She wasn't sure how long it would last though.

"I don't believe I asked any favor of you." Countering with him, although playful, would buy her time to think of a plan to get out of this. It wasn't like she didn't want him – oh how much she did! It was that this was _not_ the place to be doing such a thing. They were hiding out in his brother's bedroom after all!

"No," his dark, sinful voice ghosted down her back, she couldn't help the shiver that followed. "We were in the middle of something last night." One hand slid across her bare stomach inching slowly higher.

She gulped and was sure he heard it. She had forgotten about their current state of undress…

"And just when I thought we were on the same page," his hold tightened, his body pressed firmly against hers, "you have to go and end it. So I say again, Aella, you owe me." The other hand that wasn't taking up her undivided attention lightly grasped her chin and tilted her head back. When he had a proper angle, he kissed her.

Leisurely, savoring every taste of her delectable mouth, Vergil felt his body relax. He hadn't realized how tense he was until that moment. The opposite could be said for his woman, she immediately grew ridged in his hold, not from repulsion or fear, his instincts were telling him it was more of an excited anxious feeling. So he was getting somewhere with her at least.

Aella at once wanted more of Vergil than just a kiss. Though fascinating and enjoyable his kisses were, she felt the craving for something deep inside her wish for more. They were both without shirts and lying in bed in a room that was sealed from the inside. Who would disturb them? What was to stop her from taking Vergil to her bed?

He clearly wasn't objecting to the prospect. In fact Aella was more than positive that Vergil had claimed her earlier in their travels. She also had not forgotten his accidental confession about his feelings for her. So what was to stop her from having him? It wouldn't be a crime, he was more than willing to participate and she had no qualms with the notion.

All accept for the reason she was on the mortal realm to begin with.

She needed to redeem herself. At least prove that she was no longer the tainted, stained abomination she had allowed herself to be at one point.

And would lying with a demon help her cause?

That wasn't fair to Vergil though. He cared about her deeply, so very deeply. His feelings for her were on a level she could not comprehend. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she was afraid of what kind of future they could share. It wouldn't be a pleasant one, nor would it be sane. They were of two different worlds.

Aella moaned into Vergil's mouth as the realization hit her like ice water. The real reason she was so afraid was because Aella would never be able to feel for Vergil the same way he felt for her. Vergil's mortal blood allowed him the ability to feel what mortal's felt, an envious ability if the angels ever saw one. Never in her whole existence would she be able to know what loving Vergil would be like.

To _love_ him with her whole being, to _love_ like the mortals could love, a _love_ so great and powerful, it would drive them mad.

A love she could never obtain, could never give.

When Vergil pulled away with a harsh gasp he glared down at her with a hard gaze. There was no anger in his dark blue eyes, only confusion, and a tenderness she hadn't noticed before.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, placing his forehead against hers.

She sighed, "Does it matter?"

"You were distracted. Yes it matters." When she only stared at him, he bashfully looked away, "Men take it personal when their woman is distracted while in the middle of something." He looked back at her with complete seriousness is his gaze.

Oh, she hurt his feelings. How cute.

She stretched slowly, pulling her arms over her head and giving him an eyeful of her pale skin. It was cruel, especially since she had come to her depressing conclusion of their relationship. But the dark look in his eyes destroyed all traces of wounded pride, so she deemed it worth it. Teasing and baiting a man she could never have…perhaps she belonged in…

_**Yesssss…**_

"Aella?" Vergil's rough, strong voice coaxed the chill away as he nuzzled her neck. No, she would not go back. Even if she was no longer welcomed in her homeland, she would forever walk the lonely road of immortality among mortals than to breathe that sulfuric air again.

"It's nothing, Vergil." She stroked his back as he left open mouth kisses along her throat. A moan escaped before she could catch it.

And it was nearly his undoing.

Or rather, it _would_ have been his undoing, if his damnable brother hadn't started pounding on the makeshift barricade Vergil put up last night. The half-breed snarled and sighed at the same time as he collapsed onto Aella. She giggled at him. A musical and exquisite sound that left him breathless and burning.

Aella ran her hands through his disheveled mane of silver hair. His body tense quietly under her fingers. With a gentle pull she finally stared into his dark blue eyes. "We should let your brother know everything is fine." She smiled at him as he glowered at the door while Dante started threatening to bust it down. "How did you sleep?"

As she waited for an answer she looked around for her sleep shirt but couldn't seem to find it.

"Restlessly." Vergil growled as he sat on the edge of the mattress, not looking for his lost shirt at all. When Aella whipped on him with a deep concern in her eyes he backtracked, "I mean I didn't dream at all. I just wasn't tired when you wanted me to sleep." He rubbed the back of his neck while she sighed in relief and began looking for her shirt again.

If she hadn't been so clever as to steal the sheet to hide her body from him, Vergil was sure she'd looked beautiful in the sunlight.

As he watched her search he decided to keep the visit from the angel to himself. It didn't concern him what Heaven wanted or what it thought of Aella. He didn't hold the angel in any kind of regard. He wasn't a threat, or an ally. Therefore, he was nothing to Vergil. Thusly making him worth nothing to Aella.

He smirked as she huffed in agitation again.

Then Dante started cursing savagely.

Vergil sighed as he stood to fix the sheet so that she didn't show anything he didn't want Dante to see. Then he set his jaw and removed the bed frame holding the door in place. His brother could have easily gotten through if he wanted to, but he hadn't. And that was the only reason Vergil didn't attack him right away.

"What?" He tried to be calm, he was always more level-headed than his little brother, but the situation was different now. He was fighting for his life, bonded to a fallen angel he was no doubt in love with, and still missing the sword his father gave him. Level-headed didn't come within the territory for this one.

Dante frowned, kept his eyes on Vergil's though Aella was probably within his sight, "You and Angel should come downstairs. We needed to talk." His features soften very slightly, as he looked away for a second. "And congratulations," he nodded casually at Aella behind his brother, without looking at her. Then he turned away and stomped down the stairs.

When Vergil turned back to stare at Aella, she had her shirt clutched in one hand as the other fisted in the sheet to keep it closed. "What did he mean?" he asked her as he shut the door with his foot.

She shook her head, turned her back on him, and dropped the sheet. As she tried to put her shirt back on Vergil slipped his arms around her bare stomach. Aella shoved the cloth down to halt his movements but the fabric didn't dampen anything. "I'm not sure, but it has to do with both of us." She grabbed one wrist to still his wondering hand. "Maybe he's glad we are out of…" she still couldn't say the name of that retched place…

"Maybe," Vergil pulled away from her slowly, clearly letting her know he didn't want to. He didn't buy it though. Of course Dante was glad his older brother was out of Hell, but he had no idea Aella played a huge part of that. As far as Vergil knew, Dante never noticed her breed either. It was obvious she wasn't human, even Mary saw that one. But his brother had no idea she was a fallen.

But it had been awhile since he last saw Dante. Maybe he got into more trouble than Vergil figured. He may have been the level-headed brother, but Dante could get into trouble like no other child he knew.

It wasn't impossible.

He'd have to be sure though.

**RequiemofaFallenAngel**

"Shopping," Aella stared at the human woman incredulously. "You want to go shopping, with me?" She shook her head and gave a sarcastic laugh, "Why?"

They were in Dante's "office" munching on what Lady called "real food," which entailed donuts. Another delicacy she never partook in during her time in the hellhole nor in…the sky… The brothers were staring at her too, gauging her reaction to the sudden news of Lady's proposal to take her shopping, and site-seeing, and an assortment of other errands meant to keep her occupied and away from Vergil.

If the aspect of spending "quality" time with a mortal woman she did not like didn't unnerved her, then the thought of not being within shouting distance of Vergil certainly did. They had not been separated since their escape to freedom. It sounded absurd to leave his side willingly when the imminent threat to their very souls wasn't yet dealt with.

And to leave him to do such a mortal pastime? Shopping? Really?

"It might be good for you to get out of my brother's company once and awhile." Dante added with a boyish grin Vergil would have never used. Clearly the two of them worked on this last night.

Lady confirmed her thoughts with several nods and pushes and such to convince her that "it would be fun." But there were lies in between the mortal's words. At Dante's unperceivable flinch, she knew that he could sense them too. This woman clearly did not want to spend time to "bond" with Aella. She was only a pawn in a plan of Dante's to get some time alone with his brother.

If they had asked out right Aella would have been less suspicious.

Now there were warning flags flaring up all over the grid.

She turned to Vergil, openly waiting for him to give some kind of reaction to this idea. Surely he thought that letting her go with the mortal was an unwise decision. He was possessive and demanding. Surely he wouldn't allow her to be out of his sight for longer than a second.

But he only said, "You should get out some more. See the sights, as it were."

Her jaw must have become loose because he smiled almost apologetically before he took even and calm steps to her. One hand took one red curl and twisted it between his forefinger and thumb while that same small smile touched the deep blue of his eyes. He made no other movement towards her, and for that Aella felt a sharp pain flare up suddenly in her chest. But as soon as it came, it vanished. Leaving her to debate whether the feeling existed at all.

She should have reached out to him, wrapped her arms around him, or refused to leave with Lady. But she did none of those things. She didn't because the thought of Vergil's love held her firmly in place, frozen to the marrow in her bones. The emotion frightened her as much as she could comprehend. She would not hurt Vergil more than she could by feeding him false feelings.

If she had reached out to him some way, there would have been hope within the gesture. And Vergil didn't deserve to be tortured anymore than he already had.

So instead she pulled herself away from the man and walked out the doors without looking back. Lady was too stunned to catch it right away. Not until Aella was half-way down the street did the mortal woman finally catch up to her.

"Okay." She said with a huff of annoyance. "Let's get it out, I don't like you much, and I can tell you don't like me much." Aella nodded, so far there weren't any disagreements. "So for now, let's just tolerate each other. You and Vergil have a thing, going on. Right? And I care a lot about Dante – even if he is a self-centered pig at times." She sighed and Aella noticed the dark circles under her eyes for the first time. "But they're brothers. So let's just call a truce, K?"

She stared at the woman for a moment longer. A truce only applied if they were being hostile to each other. And as far as Aella could tell, she only mildly disliked the company of this woman. She would never hurt her physically.

A frowned darkened her expression. What happened last night had been an accident, a flook. It would not happen again.

"Fair enough." Aella stuck her hand out to Lady even though she detested the idea of touching her. She'd have to get over her discomfort for Vergil's sake. If Dante's woman caused a rift between the brothers because the fallen could not get along with her, it would only hurt Vergil who needed his brother's cooperation at the moment.

They shook hands and it was the longest hand shake of Aella's life. When they stopped it seemed that nothing had changed, the tension was thick and the atmosphere weighed heavily on Aella's shoulders for a moment. Lady looked equally unhappy.

"Alright. First, let's get you and Vergil some new clothes." She set a brisk pace that Aella matched easily, she would not follow this woman, have her back on her.

Shopping was decided to be a new form of torture that fallen should adapt in a certain place… Aella despised the hobby. How could mortals take joy in such an act? Unfathomable as it may be, Lady only depicted such a mortal. She would smile to herself when she thought no one was watching as she rubbed the fabrics between her fingers, as she haggled the shop owners, as she took the bags with thanks and gratitude.

For Aella, there were just too many people around. She hated feeling so claustrophobic and it only progressed as they moved farther and farther from Dante's shop. Anxiousness and paranoia made a grand appearance and Aella found herself checking the exits, sensing the auras of any mortals nearby, keeping to a dark corner to allow Lady the pleasure of picking items up. Every minute or so, she'd check the sun, watch their time, and debate about whether to convince Lady to set a path back.

But Lady seemed unperturbed by her actions. Put lightly, the woman was ignoring Aella with a vigorous determination. Apparently even highly uncomfortable fallen angels were unable to dampen her shopping high. It damn near made Aella scream in fury. She felt caged even though there were no bars holding her back.

"What do you think about this one?" Lady held up a button-down white shirt, lightly pin-striped in a light blue for Aella to see from her safe corner. She had tried many methods of involving her in the mortal's fancy, once she remembered her own truce and forgone her ignorance. But Aella had only brushed the woman off with furious annoyance every time. For some reason the shirt caught her off guard. Before all Lady showed her were pastels and light garments meant for a woman who spent her time doing such idle things as shopping – all of which she turned down with stony silence that force Lady to put the clothing back where she found it. The shirt was a man's casual style.

Her eyebrows roses slightly as she looked skeptically at the mortal. "For who?" She asked, trying and not succeeding in keeping the growl out of her tone.

"For Vergil." Lady answered.

It was a good thing her back was to Aella. Or the woman would have more than likely given away how truly disturbed she was that Lady was picking clothing for the half-breed. It wasn't her place to do the deed either, but something about the act of Vergil wearing the garment that Lady picked out bothered her.

Like a splinter in her foot would bother her.

Just like this caged feeling bothered her.

"No."

This time Lady did turn and every ounce of blood in her face fled from the look of disgust in Aella's face. Her eyes burned with a vengeance, her teeth flashed in an unfriendly grimace, her nostrils flared as she huffed at the woman. Everything about her posture and expression demanded that Lady take a step back and apologize for dishonoring her.

It was a good thing Lady was definitely mortal. She took several steps away, slowly and trembling, and showed Aella her neck unconsciously as she twisted away in the beginning steps of running the hell away. But she caught herself at the last minute and merely stood as unthreatening as possible.

Aella came towards her, snatched the shirt away, and flung it haphazardly onto the shelf it had been folded neatly upon. The she looked around the shop for the first time, ignoring the possible exits, ignoring the cluster of other mortals around her. This time Aella scanned at the fabrics and clothing and styles the store offered.

She moved briskly, determined not to be out down by some mortal woman. She would decide what Vergil wore. After all, she knew Vergil, not this bag of flesh and bone. So easily breakable, so disgustingly fragile she was. Lady did not deserve the act to decide what Vergil would ware, that was a job meant for someone who knew him better than any other.

Her hands flew as she judged the clothing.

If it came to it, Aella didn't doubt that she wouldn't even let Dante pick out Vergil's wardrobe.

**RequiemofaFallenAngel**

Hours later, Aella and Lady both hefted a great number of bags from the various stores in town. They moved without much talk, as it had been since Aella's involvement in shopping. And that was just fine with her. She did not like Lady, and the truce only had to be applied when they were around the half-breeds together. At any other time, Aella found it easier to either ignore the woman or outright look down on her.

She shouldn't have pulled a gun on Vergil, she decided. If she had just left the man alone there wouldn't have been a problem.

Of course the vitality of the woman's fury did not go unmissed by the fallen. She was acting far too possessive than she felt comfortable with. When it had been just the two of them against the army of… the dark…Aella found it much easier to hold onto him and keep him for herself. But in the presence of Dante and Lady, it was clear that there were parts of Vergil she could never hope to have.

Dante was his brother, a bond deeper than the one Gallus entwined. And the heated hatred Lady owned for Vergil was one that could possibly cut their mystical boning down. No, there were parts of that man that Aella could never hope to gain.

And the more she thought of it, the more confused she was about it all. She had decided that she could never hope to love Vergil as he loved her. It was an unreachable, unheard of thought. Ugly and jealous that it was.

However, the more she thought to distance herself from the man's heart, the more her own tried to possess it. Like now, the whole shopping experience was a perfect way to clear her head of Vergil, to begin her assessment of how to get him to not love her anymore. Yet she had done none of that sort of thinking. Instead she had picked out clothing for him.

Was her resolve so weak? Was her will so easily molded?

Maybe it was the other way around. Maybe her will was too strong. Since they escaped their imprisonment Aella felt herself being drawn in closer and closer to this half-breed. So maybe she had already decided she would have him, not in the way Vergil loved her but have him for herself nonetheless. If that were true, then could she ever being to try and change her nature?

Lady stopped suddenly, jerking Aella from her thoughts roughly. If the mortal's pair of pistols hadn't been trained on the two men farther down the street, Aella would have thought to curse at her. Instead she sized the men up. They were average. By all accounts there was absolutely nothing remarkable about either of them. Brown hair, brown eyes, fairly dark skin, average height, average built, average, average, average.

All about them screamed "Don't look at me! I'm completely normal!"

And she would have bought into it too, if their auras weren't so tainted by the stench of brimstone.

Not demons, they mostly had a hint of their natural scent tinted in sulfur. These guys were average humans living with a contract printed on their soul.

"Contracts," Aella hissed to Lady. Would this mortal hunter know about them? She had to; it wasn't like they were all that uncommon. Contracts came about all the time, though their population wasn't near the billions of humans, nor the millions of demons, they were by far thousands of them roaming about the mortal world.

The fallen glanced at Lady, her eyes burned equally with hatred at the men, her hands never wavered, and her breathing was even. This woman knew how to hunt; Aella could acknowledge such a woman. After all Dante picked her didn't he? And the lifestyles of half-breeds came with baggage; therefore any woman they'd bring into their environment would have to own special skills of her own in order to survive.

They couldn't be babysitting all day.

Which explained quite logically why Aella would be an acceptable choice as Vergil's mate. If one could overlook her inability to actually love the man.

"What do you want?" Lady called out to the contracts; by the looks of it she didn't care one way or the other. But she was no demon; her humanity needed a reason to kill something. If the contracts weren't looking for trouble, then Aella would be handling this on her own.

Part of her new lifestyle was to try to be better. Letting contracts walk amongst the innocent was not something she'd do lightly. No, these men needed to die. And more likely than not, she was what they were looking for.

"Well, we're looking for this bounty see, pretty lady." Average Joe #1 said with a gentlemanly tip of his baseball cap.

Lady sneered, "This place ain't known for holding up bounties." Aella noticed her change in accent fast. Was she trying to play to their better nature? Too bad there was no "better" anything when contracts were involved.

Or maybe she believed them and thought they were normal men working in a rough economy, doing the only thing they knew how.

Well, that was just great. Leave it to the one mortal Aella was forced to be with to be an innocent. Peachy.

"But we have this source see," #1 went on, obviously #2 wasn't much of a talker, "and this source claims that he saw our bounty come in this place. Since he didn't say if it left," he paused and gave her a sheepish smile, one that was positively as boring as the rest of him, "well, we find it safe to assume that it may still be in town."

"Can't help you boys out." Lady said her face far too stern for her laid back accent. Aella considered the thought of snatching one of her guns and laying waste to #1 while he was occupied.

"Are you sure?" His smirk grew into a humorous grin, "Your lovely companion standing next to you, she's got the same looks as our bounty."

"Me?" Aella gave him a dashing, tight-lipped grin. "Well, that's a bit of a problem, cause I want nothing to do with you employer."

#1 sighed, as if dealing with a toddler, "Then that means your not going to come _quietly_?" He must have seen the power in her eyes because he looked about a happy as a kid on Christmas.

Aella held one hand up, her palm facing the man as she answered, "Not. At. All." Then she let loose her power, it rushed at the men and a great invisible force, like a battering ram, slammed into them. They crashed into the building behind them with enough force to break every bone in their body.

After they limply slumped to the floor, they slowly picked themselves up and began brushing the dust off their clothing. _Shit!_ Aella grabbed Lady's arm and began dragging her back immediately. "Run!" She snapped, "Run you fool!" The woman complied the second time and took off down a corner with her, their bags had been placed neatly out of the way during Lady's useless conversation.

_When_ she was done here, she'd go back and bring Vergil his new clothes.

"Why are they after you?" Lady cried as Aella tried to find an acceptable spot to fight the contracts. Somewhere without a large crowd. Fortunately, several of the smarter humans ran when Aella used her will.

She sneered at the question. What could she tell Lady? What was safe? More likely than not Lady would merely let loose a chuckle leave her to clean up the mess. "Oh these guys are contracted with powerful summoning devils and are hunting you and Dante's brother because you broke out of Hell when you weren't supposed to? Well, good luck with that!"

Yeah… No.

"Their employer wants to use me as a sacrifice to call out a great demon." She said harshly, muttering the words in case anything else could listen in. "I ran cause I don't want to die." A quick glance at Lady and Aella knew she chose the right lie. The word _sacrifice_ seemed to make her face shadow over in hatred. Anger was always a wonderful fuel source to humans.

"How do we kill 'em?"

Aella grinned with nothing but the thrilling and wonderful aspect of a fair fight. With the kind of ammo Lady carried, she could take on one average contract by herself while Aella took on the other. She had Lady's full cooperation, without the nagging questions to answer to first.

"Decapitation is always the safest, but if you can destroy the heart it'll do just as well."

**So, it's been a while, huh? Sorry my readers. With school starting and work taking up most of my free time now I've been putting off my stories. This one suffered the most cause I want it to be PERFECT when I post it now. I mean, it's the most popular of my stories and I get the most praise and feedback for it, so I owe it to you my readers to give you the best that I can. Right?**

**Please be patient with me while I do what I can when I can. I have the story line planned out nearly completely, I know how it'll end and I know how I want to get there… mostly. So all I have to do is write it all out. The slowest of the story making process. **

**But thank you so much for loving this piece and I promise to do the best I can! **

**This chapter's question I'd like answers to is how do you feel about Nero? I never played the 4****th**** Devil May Cry, but with youtube and wikipedia I'm hope I'm not going to screw it up. I just want to know what you guys think about him. I mean, I kinda **_**have**_** to put him in here. He has Vergil's sword after all. **


	11. Chapter 11

Contractors

Vergil had to close his eyes, inhale deeply of her remaining scent, and clench his hands to fists to keep himself from rushing after Aella as she fled Devil May Cry. And she fled. As if she couldn't get out of there fast enough! He thought it would have been wise for her to leave the confines of this building. She always seemed like she couldn't sit still in one place for too long. With the numerous amounts of unrestricted portals dotting the city, he could understand if she was getting feverish.

But she pulled away from him before he could calm her unease. She didn't like Mary. She never indulged in shopping. She shunned from crowds and jumped at the thought that anything could be lurking in the alleyways. Paranoia and she were good friends.

Vergil had meant to negate her agitation with words of comfort. Though the moment was shot to Hell, Vergil wonder vaguely if he even knew what he was going to say to help her. There was no love lost between him and comfort. What could he possible think to say to a fallen angel to comfort her?

"Oi! Vergil!" Dante was in front of him, a firm grip on his shoulder shaking him slightly. By the exasperation on his face Dante had been trying to reach him for a while.

He frowned as he stared his younger brother down. Nothing had to be said, Dante knew Vergil was in a foul mood and that all his attention was focused on him.

"Ah-um," he cleared his throat and stomped to his desk to slouch in his chair. "What are you doing here Vergil?" Finally, he was cutting to the chase. "What kind of trouble are you in?" He rubbed a hand over his face, smooth and chiseled like Vergil's. "And who is Angel?" There was more Dante wanted to ask it seemed, but he left his questioning where it was.

"I need Yamato." Vergil glared at his brother. This wasn't going to be easy. True he preferred the straight and narrow approach when it came to Dante, but Vergil's habit of always telling the man what little enough he needed to know was hard to conquer.

Dante sighed when Vergil did not say anything more. "Why? What do you plan to do with it?"

A tick in Vergil's jaw signaled that he did not want to answer, but would. "I must defend myself against whatever is sent my way. Although I am far more powerful than you, there is only so much I can handle without our father's gift."

Dante ignored the jab; he had grown up a bit. "Defend yourself from what? Dammit Vergil! I need to know more than that!" He stood to his full height his outlandish, red leather coat flaring out in the movement. "I don't trust you Vergil."

There it was.

As it should be.

Vergil had been more than surprised by Dante's hospitality. He had always thought of his brother as hopelessly bound to his mortal blood. When they first saw each other last night there had been a flicker in Dante's face. A shock that Vergil had wrote off as unimportant. But now, it was clear to him. Dante had thought Vergil returned to kill him, as he had done once before.

He had put the women upstairs last night, had been quick to come to his aid during the virus's nightmare. Dante wanted to watch Vergil, had he slept at all last night?

In a way it was sort of relieving to know how suspicious his brother was. He was not stupid and blind. He was clever, cunning, and not one to play the fool twice. Even to his own brother.

If he could say it, Vergil would have said he was proud of what Dante had become.

Dante stared at him, not exactly hostile but in a manner that said he would not wait for an answer forever. Vergil collected his scattering thoughts; he was beginning to feel greatly uncomfortable for no reason at all. Even if he was in a situation he should not have been in, he had no need to feel nervous and he could do nothing to change his fate. So what was scratching at the back of his skull?

"You remember the last time we faced each other?" He began, his brother obviously relaxed but stood his ground as he nodded. "Do you know what became of me?" He shook his head, a slow movement that allowed Dante to watch Vergil's every move. "I was sent to Hell. In some plane outside of the inner gates," he paused as he thought about how much to tell him. Would telling him of Aella's involvement hurt her more so than help him?

"Eventually I was captured and brought to the outer circle where I was tortured beyond comprehension." He was sure to keep his face completely neutral as he skimmed the rest of his time in Hell, ignoring Aella's involvement completely. For now it would be best to keep Dante's interest in her to a bare minimum. "I escaped, through a means I'm not at liberty to discussed, and Angel and I found it within our best interest to travel together."

By the grimace his brother did not agree with Aella's role in his tale, but he let it be. "So you want your sword only to defend yourself against Hell's legions?"

"It is not yours to hold, Dante." Vergil growled. Was it hot in here? He felt hot. The fan was moving but he couldn't feel it. He needed air, such a human thing to think of, but there it was. He strode towards the door, his strides oddly jerky.

Perhaps Dante misread his movements. "Vergil, I know Yamato isn't mine. But, damn, man! You have to give me some credit here. You opened a fuckin' Gate last time I saw you." He grabbed Vergil's arm, his hand cold and clammy.

Vergil shrugged him off. He definitely needed to only get out of the four walls boxing him in. It was like they were closing in on him even though they weren't moving. When was the last time he felt so trapped? Like he was living in a cage. "Our father gave Yamato to _me_. If you won't help me then you are only an obstacle."

The bite of his words stung his brother visibly. He flinched and stopped trying to keep him from the door. If he could only cool his head, take a moment to collect his thoughts. Breathe some damn fresh air!

He shoved the wood as hard as possible and the hinges creaked in violation. He stumbled into the sunlight like a drunk. He gulped in lungfuls of crisp morning air. What was wrong with him? Alone with his little brother for five minutes and claustrophobia sets in?

Wait…

"_We don't have to be in the same room. We don't even have to travel together anymore. Except that the farther we are from one another the more '_in tuned_' we'll be to the other."_

There it was; Aella's soft voice as she spoke of the specifics of what Gastoff had done to them. Since that time, they had not been out of arm's length of one another. Not until Aella stayed upstairs last night. And they had been under the same roof for that. Now though, she was miles from him. He straightened as he pushed his hair out of his face. Could it be that right at this exact moment she was feeling just as uncomfortable.

It made sense. She would be among crowds and people in close quarters. Her company would be no more than a mortal woman with a strange scent about her. And this was the farthest they were from one another since the bonding took affect. What other explanation could there be for his uneasiness? He was a level-headed man of the Great Sparda's blood, he never felt nervous.

"Vergil, wait!" Dante shouted as he cursed his way to his brother. "Don't just walk out on me like that. You don't even know where to start looking for Yamato."

Vergil stilled, something was watching him, something that usually spent its time rolling in the horrible screams of its victims. He held up a hand to silence his brother. They both turned around to the far end of the sidewalk. There were two men standing there in grab meant for the 1940's. Tan trench coats, broad brown fedoras, polished shoes; they appeared like a pair of detectives out of a film.

But the yellow eyes and the black slits gave away what they really were.

"Shit." Dante growled.

Shit was right. Just when this morning couldn't make Virgil feel any worse, he had to come across not one but two Contractors: The Deal-Makers.

"Yellow-Eyes," Vergil greeted the men in a stiff nod. He spoke low, just barely able to hold the growl back, but they heard him loud and clear.

"Pointy-eared bastards," Dante gave his own greeting just to upset his brother no doubt. These demons were no run-of-the-mill breed. They were no harpy with a narrow goal and thought process. They were no mindless, killing Nightshade. Even the Temptress could hold no ground when Yellow-Eyes were around.

_Heh. You can rhyme._

"Sons of Sparda," the one on the left said as they bowed together deeply, mockingly. "How do our ill-blooded cousins go?"

Their sneers even appeared in unison. Creepy, Virgil thought. He had never known yellow-eyed demons to fight fairly and _share_ their prey. Which meant their puppeteer knew who's home Vergil had run too. And if he knew that much, what else had the evil one learned while Vergil was away? Did he know of Gastoff's involvement as well?

Of course he wasn't worried for the angel. But if the man downstairs did know about him, then he knew about Aella getting the collar off.

So now the life-hanging question was this: How did he find them this time?

Dante displayed a mad grin as he leveled his pistols at the pair. Fortunately there were no innocent witnesses to the forth coming battle; they would have been an unnecessary obstacle. A distraction he could do without.

Vergil hissed as his pulse quickened, a whooshing sound rushed through his ears. Dammit! Aella! Couldn't she stay calm for one damned second? He needed to concentrate and her jitters were becoming as contagious as a plague!

"Get the fuck outta my town." He heard his moronic brother boast, his pistols shinning in the midmorning light, his fangs bare, his eyes hard. Really, had the man no brains at all? If one was clever enough, one to talk the yellow-eyes down. Of course, Dante was not clever.

"Sorry, but we have business to discuss with our kinsman here." Vergil felt several muscles jerk in response to those words. They all had the stench of sulfur in their bones did they not? Of course this was the first time a demon had ever out loud recognize Virgil as having the same blood as itself. Wasn't that what Vergil had strived for all his life?

For some reason the feelings those words gave him were not of relish or pride. No, he had decided long ago to be greater than his father, to be above ever and all demons. He didn't need them to accept him, only to sit still while he cut them down.

"You must have me mistaken with another half-blood," he forced a smirk, where the hell was Aella – "I am no fool, to make a bargain with a contractor."

And they smirked right back, full of malice glee, "We're not here for a fool, we target the desperate, Vergil." They exchanged another look and their yellow eyes gleamed intensely as they stared him down the sidewalk.

_Dammit, Aella_. She needed to be here. He needed to see her, have her at his back. But all he had was a brother who probably would never trust him and with an ego the size of Manhattan.

Vergil gave a harsh laugh; it was bitter to his own ears. "I'm not that desperate."

One contractor cocked his head to the side. "No, you're not." He said it with such conviction, Vergil felt exceedingly better. "Not yet." And there, just like that, a cold dread seeped deeply into his bones.

"What the hell, Vergil?" Dante snarled as he trained his pistols on the demons. "Since when did you talk first and kill later?"

"Since always," he sneered. "Besides, what would you have me do, _brawl_ with them?" He made sure all his nerves backed the sarcasm he forced into every word. A flicker of fear raced across his little brother's features. _That's right, if you'd just give me my sword, this would not be a problem!_

"Then let me take 'em." He said his voice harsh and rushed from his mouth as he looked away from Vergil. "They don't belong here, anyway. Their master's probably got a short leash on 'em, too. Best to kill before he sends anymore pains in the ass our way." How did he shove himself into this situation so easily? All this _my town_, _our way_, stuff was grating on his nerves, and they were so tangled up as it was with Aella having a panic attack somewhere.

"Like we follow orders?" The one on the left grinned, his teeth flat and surprisingly white. "No, no, son of Sparda, we are here for the bounty. Nothing more."

"Bounty? You managed a bounty in Hell?" Vergil chose to start ignoring his brother.

"That explains the weaklings." He said with false nonchalance. A cold sweat was breaking out from his brow and trickled down his spine. No wonder he and Aella had been so lucky. Takinsh, the Temptress, and the troll-demon all made sense now. It also explained the Nightshades odd behavior in hunting tactics – like how they actually _had_ tactics to begin with.

For a Fallen turned traitor and a son of the great Sparda, the bounty must have been amazing.

"Yes," he breathed with sharp clarity, "The troll-demon just happened to be within the vicinity, the harpies were just doing their job, and the Temptress is an entrepreneuring bitch." For what he thought was strategy, the demons were lining up to fetch the two of them for their master. If that was true, and Vergil sense no reason for the contractors to lie, then what would become of them when the prince got tired of his pet's failure?

"So what's a pair of contracts doing here?" Dante snapped, his patients wearing thin. "Shouldn't you be out looking for the desperate?"

The demons traded another looked and smiled as if sharing some secret joke before they trained their disturbing eyes on Vergil. "We're here to do what we do best." The one on the right answered.

"We'd like to make a deal with you Vergil," the other finished, mangling his name on purpose no doubt.

It was his breaking point.

There had been moments in his short life when he had felt insulted, truly insulted, the kind that would be resolved with a duel in the older days. For those insults, Vergil had killed his prey and that became the end of it. After, of course, the insultee begged for mercy that would not come.

But of all those moments, of all the insults a man could take this one was the worst of them. To have a pair of contracts offer _him_ a deal? That was a blow unlike any he had ever received. To be offered by the yellow-eyed dealmakers, one had to desperate, at the end of all hope, ready to give up one's own soul kind of desperate.

And never had Vergil even been categorized as desperate.

_Never!_

He laughed at the absurdity of it. It was mad and full of the violence of a man ready to jump off the deep end. But he didn't care. Insane he could handle, but call him desperate, would they? Who was the desperate one? These jokers were looking for his consent instead of taking him out, that's desperate! Gastoff exerted all his angel juice just to get a Fallen out of his exiled and pathetic life, that's desperate! Dante lived in a shit-hole of a town, infested with demon portals because he was too inept to do what was necessary, that's desperate!

No, Vergil the son of Sparda was not desperate.

"Uh, Vergil? Hey, man, you ok?" Dante's voice sound far, far away as Vergil felt himself loose it. A blur was all the yellow-eyes saw, right up until Vergil grabbed one by the throat and kicked the other in the gut. It was a shame contractors needed vessels. Aella was going to pissed at him by the end of this.

**RequiemofaFallen**

Lady cursed at the fates, the gods, all the devils, and of her own stupidity. She was too mortal for her own good. Or so Dante kept reminding her. But Dante wasn't here right now. All she had was a pair of mortals pumped up on a Demon's Contract like a meth addict. _Dammit!_ She didn't care about teaching them a lesson, didn't mind hurting them at all. They entered the contract on their own after all, but she sure as hell couldn't kill them. And that seemed to be the only thing stopping them from killing her.

Which didn't seem to bother them at all.

"Dammit!" She cursed at the air this time as she fell back to the ground. If they hadn't been so damned fast she would have used _Katalina_ by now.

Lady turned in time to see a man smirking down at her. Who the hell was _he _to look down on her? He reached for her and Lady felt the dread freeze her insides. An inch away he hissed as Angel seized his arm and twist. Hard.

A snap and crackle later, both men were a safer distance away. _Shit. _But Angel was a great ally!

"Didn't think I'd hurt you?" Angel asked, her voice ice cold and scary as any demon's. Lady swallowed her fear real quick and scrambled to a defensive crouch. Her grenades would destroy these guys, and they were still mortal. As much as Lady hated evil, she could not kill a human. Demons were different.

Weren't they?

Dante was different.

These guys were worse than Dante.

"Hey!" Lady flinched at Angel's voice, it was too cold. "Stay with me. We will not kill them."

At that the men scoffed and one laughed right out at her. "_You_ won't kill us? _Psh!"_ He rushed for the woman and she met him head on, stopping his fist an inch before it hit her cheek. Her green eyes couldn't have been more bored. Her pretty mouth sneered as she broke the man's wrist in several places before she flung him away as if he were nothing but scum.

And he was, he was scum. To sell your soul for a couple years of invincibility, that makes him scum.

But, he was human. He was like Lady, he breathed and bled red. Lady clenched her teeth. Angel's behavior pissed her off. Like when she was about to shoot Vergil, Angel did something to piss her off. This, her face, her voice, and those damned green eyes, they all pissed her off!

It was as if she thought she was better than them! Better than these guys, better than Lady!

The man screamed and Lady looked up to see Angel holding the other by his neck, two feet off the ground, with only one hand. She had nothing on height with this guy, he had at least a whole foot on her, and she held him at her utter mercy.

Something in Angel's demeanor changed at that second. It was as if someone inside her flick off the switch to her sanity and left her in the darkened room of insanity.

And Angel laughed at the man as he struggled uselessly. His immortal strength didn't save him, his contractor never showed up, and for a horrible second Lady feared for her life from the woman she laid next to last night.

**RequiemofaFallen**

She wasn't sure what it was, but it was slick and cold and definitely not unpleasant as it slithered down her throat and coaxed its way past her barriers and nestled into her soul. It was not her own doing that held the man above her, at her mercy – which was mysteriously misplaced at the moment. He reeked of sin and hell, and his fear was old and rotted as it clung to the air.

His memories flowed out of him in waves, a man who had little will power. As a boy he was always picked on for being so small. His father beat him and his mother wept when he was near. A little boy lost and alone and the perfect picking for a demon's bargain.

A man in a trench coat and a dark hat with a pleasant and warm smile came to him, it had been raining that night.

_I could make it better. Would you like for me to make it better? It won't cost you a single cent, just give me your soul when the time comes and you can have all you've ever wanted._

The rain had stopped as soon as the boy grasped the man's hand. And his world was swallowed up by yellow eyes.

Pain, torment, anger, destruction fell at his whim. He tortured animals, beat children, raped women, and killed everything he could.

As the years wan, the man grew into a monster, feasting on his victims, relishing in the agony in his wake. Screams are his lullaby, and blood is his wine.

Soon there is nothing left of the sad, lost, little boy. Soon, the monster adorns his skin and walks as a man. But the man is still inside, watching and loving everything the monster does.

_This is not a man!_

Aella laughs at him. He is everything that is wrong with the world. He was the reason she was what she was! If there had been no man… if there had been no world… if only…if only her father hadn't put this scum before her and her siblings!

A loud sound erupted from far away. A slight pain, a tingle of feeling blossomed from her cheek. Aella frowned at the scum in her hand. Sweat made her grip slick. If she wasn't careful he'd get away and cause more chaos in the days to come.

"Angel!"

Ah, there's that word again. That label, that mark of shame.

That's what you had once been…

Before she had fallen…

Before she had betrayed her family…

Before she had been deceived by the lies…

Slowly, everything cam back into focus. Aella felt a sickness welling up from deep within her body, it was beyond anything physical. Her soul ran from the foul sickness. What had she almost done?

Before she could think, she threw the man as far from her body as possible. She probably broke his ribs, and spine, shattered his hip bone as he landed on it but it was a far better outcome than what she could have done to him – what she _would_ have done to him.

"ANGEL!" Lady was next to her, spouting something about what she _could have/ would have_ done. Her voice was shrill and it hurt her ears, but Aella let her scream all she wanted. It wasn't at all what she deserved. A fallen deserved so much more of a punishment for what she had allowed loose within her.

But what set it off?

Aella detested the contracts, yes everyone one does. But she wouldn't have killed him, it wasn't her place to kill them. And yet, something inside her wanted to destroy these men. Aella tried to pinpoint to feeling again, but it was missing. She frowned, no, there… she didn't want to kill the contracts; she wanted the yellow-eyed contractor's head on a spike!

At the touch of Lady's hand, Aella flinch so hard she felt a twinge in her neck. This was not her own desire. Although wanting to kill a contractor was reasonable, Aella understood it was their life, their nature, to make contracts with weak and susceptible humans. It was why they had been created by the prince and they knew of nothing else.

"Lady," Aella stared at the woman carefully, she still looked ready to blow her head off like some common demon, "I believe Vergil and Dante are in serious trouble."

**Ok! So I know it took… FOREVER!... but here ya go! I hope you like it. I had originally planned to stop after Vergil has his moment, but then I was like –**_** I totally owe them so much more than that!**_** So I added Lady's POV, which may never happen again. I mean, I like her, but writing her is much harder than I thought since I love Aella so much. **

**Anyway, you know how it goes. Review and let me know how pissed you are I put school in front of Vergil! . I'm pissed at myself too. **

**Also, this story is getting so popular I'm fluster and worrying about how y'all will take to where I've decided to take it. Of course it's MY story so if you don't like it, tell me about it when we get there. **

**I think that about does it… I really wish I had more for you with this chapter. But this is what I came up with. I think I've read it enough times thought where there shouldn't be that many grammatical errors. ^_^ Yeah, that's about as optimistic as I can get. **

**Getting up at 3am to work 4am-noon is a bitch… I hope this week ends quickly. Then I'll get back to my normal schedule and that'll mean no school, only work, and more time for this story!**


	12. Chapter 12

Blood. It always caused him pause to see how much blood one human body could possess. It would spill for so long, and humans could live through the whole thing. Frozen they could watch their own life seep away, unable to do anything to stop themselves from dying.

It was a shame contractors needed vessels. If they could incorporate their demon form on this plane then there would be no need to possess a man and wear his skin. But as powerful and devastating the Yellow-eyed Demons were they still needed a human's body to walk and talk and make their deals in.

Vergil threw the cold, dead body to the side with not so much as another glance its way. The demon didn't have the chance to flee its vessel before Vergil's strike stopped its beating heat. One move and he sent the abomination back to its lifeless home – back to its enraged master.

One move and the poor human soul, trapped by the demon's influence, died right along with its intruder. Vergil frowned. Hopefully, they did not travel to the same place.

"Well, you could have simply said no." The second demon shrugged at Vergil direction, its yellow-eyes stuck on the corpse next to him.

"No." Vergil answered. He knew the Deal-Maker wouldn't attack him. Even though he now had a warning – his dead comrade – and could escape before Vergil exorcized him that did not mean the demon was willing to work so hard to find another vessel.

"Shit, Vergil…" His younger brother overlooked his work with a pale face. "You didn't have to kill the bastard." Vergil didn't look at him. Was he talking about the demon, or the man? It was always so hard to tell what Dante meant.

The remaining demon cleared his throat as he slowly stood straight. He straightened his coat and righted his fedora with a shaking hand. "I understand you may not want to make a deal right now. But you know how to find me when you do, just call for 'Alan'." He replaced his hat. "And trust me, you will need a deal to get out of this one with that humanity of yours still in tack." Again, with slow and steady movements, the demon walked away from the half-breeds. Deliberately showing his back and looking as human as a demon could.

Dante sneered, "We're going to let a Yellow-eye go?"

"Yes." Vergil growled. He hurt everywhere. It didn't even take much effort to kill the contractor. He thrust his hand through his chest and clenched his heart in a matter of seconds. Vergil's hand twitched. The blood was caking already. If Aella saw it… What would she do? What would he say?

Why did his body hurt so much?

**RequiemofaFallenAngel**

Aella watched as the men turned and ran. It wouldn't have taken anything but a thought to catch up to them and end them. But she merely watched them flee at a moderately human pace. After Lady had brought her back to her senses, Aella had purged the Deal-Maker's hold over them, making the contract void, and leaving them completely and utterly human.

She also found their moral fibers and reinforced them with such implementation those men would probably never have another night of peace. For the rest for their miserable lives, the screams of their victims would not bring them victory but fear and self-disgust.

_Might as well have killed them_.

"What the hell was that?" Lady snarled, and for a human was fairly decent at it. "You nearly ripped that fucker's head off! Not that they didn't deserve death, but damn Angel." Lady turned away from her, like she couldn't stand the sight of her.

Aella flinched at her words and actions. She did not like Lady, but she agreed with her now more than ever. Whatever happened to her, it was not because of herself. Something dark inside her, something that was not from Hell but not from her own desires was trying to influence her actions and thoughts. Though she did not want to kill the human, she was going to.

The dark thing flinched from her awareness of it. Afraid and ashamed it seemed to be hiding from her.

And that just made her pity it. _Stars and Stones! How am I going to handle this?_

The worst of it was that there had been rage when she had been influenced. She shouldn't have any concept of rage, but she knew of it. Learned it during her time in the pit, watching the souls that came there and suffered. Aella knew she couldn't feel it, but what had happened… Whatever it was it allowed her to feel an emotion an angel had no business feeling.

"Come on, Angel. Let's just get back to Dante's place. We should tell him what happened I'm sure he'll know what to do from here." Lady grabbed their bags they had dropped when the men showed up. She handed out half to Aella while not looking at her.

When she grabbed her half, Aella noticed Lady had goose bumps all over her arm. That was when she could smell the stench of fear off Lady as well. This human woman was afraid of her.

_Isn't that the opposite of what you're trying to do?_

**RequiemofaFallenAngel**

The doors were uneven as Aella and Lady reached Dante's shop. It was small and barely unnoticeable. Though they were closed Aella noticed the thin strip of empty air between the two frames of wood. The wards fluttered in disturbance even though there was nothing upsetting them. She broadened her sight and found no activity from the nearest portals. What did that mean?

Lady pushed the doors open in her dramatic way, ignoring the minor detail of the hinges squeaking. "Dante! Get your sorry ass out here!" She hollered to the empty first floor. As Aella followed her, with more awareness involved incase someone had set a trap within his wards, she heard as series of cursing from upstairs.

"What the fuck, Lady? What's with all the screaming so early in the morning?" The half-breed stumbled over the last two steps as his eyes caught hers. She looked away and wondered why she felt so uncomfortable. She had no reason to be embarrassed.

"You'll never guess what we ran into in town," Lady pointed one of her slender fingers at his chest, not even making a dint in his leather.

"That pirate from those movies you make me watch with you?" His smirk seemed to set her at ease as she sighed and slouched in his chair, stacking her booted feet on his desk, just as Aella had seen Dante do.

"No. Contracts."

Aella found that watching a half-breed blanching was something to add to her list of top ten most surprising moments of her life. So either Dante knew about the contracts in town, or he was told so by a little birdie.

"Contracts, huh?" Lady did not catch Dante's reaction; she flung an arm over her eyes as she continued to loosen each muscle individually. How strange that Dante could have such an effect on her.

"Yes, you know about contracts? Don't you, Dante? Mortals too stupid to fix their own problems running to a demon to make a deal and selling their soul? Ringing any bells, am I?"

Dante gave a nervous laughter before he shook his head and scratched the back of his neck – a tick he seemed to do unconsciously. "Are you ok? I mean, their just some juiced up dickheads, but still-"

"I'm fine." The ice in her voice left him no room to discuss her frailty any more.

Aella cleared her voice, "I wish to speak to Vergil, where is he?"

Dante flinched, as if he forgot she was standing mere feet from him. "Right, Vergil. Uh, he's taking a shower right now. Just give him a minute." He looked everywhere but at her. So something was wrong.

"Did the two of you talk while we were gone?" Lady asked as she stretched to get the last of her kinks out.

This time Dante only stared at the floor with a distant gaze. "Not really. He got real bothered by something I said, then he…" Aella quirked an eyebrow at him. "Then the moment kinda past, you know?"

Lady began to chastise her half-demon comrade but Aella stopped listening. Something was wrong here. Dante was lying to Lady, hiding something from the both of them. Though the sound of water rushing through old pipes echoed in her ears, she didn't believe she needed to wait to speak to Vergil. It was important that they discuss what had happened to her. If it was because of the bonding then there were going to have to be some new ground rules to establish.

Like no more outings with Lady.

Do not be outside of a ten foot radius of each other.

Always be aware of what you are feeling.

Yes. And that would only be a start until they could figure a way to control the darkness within Aella that made her act out in such an unangelic fashion. Since it occurred only when she was away from Vergil, the logical response would be to stay next to him. That wouldn't be so hard, considering she preferred his company to any other at this point in time.

Progress, right? She liked his company, enjoyed listening to his voice, found solace in his presence, it was all very positive. Perhaps she would tell Vergil this. Somehow Aella knew the information would please him. And that thought seemed to make her steps lighter and her weariness of the fight lifted.

As she rounded the top of the stairs, completely unnoticed by Dante and Lady, she heard the groan of the pipes being shut off.

**RequiemofaFallenAngel**

Growling and cursing, Vergil scrubbed the last of the blood off his body. He couldn't bring himself to take his clothes off at first, Dante helped scrub each arm individually while Vergil stood just outside the iron cast tub. Once he couldn't see it, he stripped and nearly scarred his skin as he tried to get rid of the smell. Aella could never know what he had done.

There were no safe guards, no loopholes to save him from her. It was a Yellow-Eyed Demon possessing a weak minded human. But the human did not consent to the possession, not like the Contracts who willingly sought out the Deal-Makers. It didn't matter what the demon was doing, Vergil should not have killed him.

No amount of shame or pain to his pride should have let him do so.

And nothing was going to get back to Aella. She was not going to ever know what he did. This was guilt he would live with forever, without her disappointing look to make it a thousand times worse.

Guilt.

Such a strange and foreign and unfamiliar word to slip across his mind. Since when did he, Vergil of Sparda, ever _decide_ to suffer guilt? He grimaced as the diluted and faded water and blood mixture swirled around the drain. Never had he degraded himself so. Never had he allowed such a weak annoyance to penetrate his being.

Vergil never was the weaker of anything. He made sure to excel in whatever he sought to conquer. But now… it was different. Aella made things different. It had not been that long since the Temptress plagued his mind and showed him his human desires. Aella had been…she was…a wife – _his_ wife.

And it was another unfamiliar word to have slithered passed his devoid demon heart and lay waste to his unfeeling demon nature. Wife. He never thought to marry before. It never came up, never crossed his mind, not once did his dreams stray to such human fancies. And yet the Temptress had seen it. She had known.

The blood left a stain on Dante's bathtub. Vergil snarled at it. Even the slightest bit of evidence and Aella's keen senses would pick it out. She'd know it was human. She'd know and then she'd ask questions. Then…Then what could he do? Lie? Could he lie to the woman he secretly sought to be his wife?

Vergil's grimace darkened.

A rattle at the door was the only warning she gave – and he was probably lucky she afforded him that much – before she shoved the small wooded frame out. He noticed she was agitated. It was more than the expected annoyance of dealing with crowds and shopping with Lady. She was fidgeting with the sleeve of her silver coat, shifting her weight between her feet, glaring at the cheap linoleum floor, and most of all Vergil noted she was biting her bottom lip.

The action caught him off guard. Aella was a poised killing machine. She was polite to the degree it was torture. Her back was straight, her shoulders back, and her balance perfect, like she had been a well-breed aristocrat. But she presented herself to him now as a fretting, little girl; guilty of stealing from the cookie jar or caught with the deviant boy next door.

It unnerved him to see her so troubled. So he immediately went to her, forgetting completely that the underneath of his fingernails were still caked in dried human blood, or that he was completely naked, or that the tub still reeked of his terrible deed. His touch warmed her though; he took a gentle hold of her elbows and guided her with ease to face him.

"There is something we need to discuss." She said with a soft voice. Perhaps she hoped he would miss the quiver beneath the words. He chose to ignore it outwardly. Inwardly, however, he tensed with apprehension.

"Of course. What happened?" He tried to nudge her out of the bathroom but she was suddenly made of stone. Now that she had his undivided attention, the nervous little girl fleeted the scene and in her wake was the marble statue.

"A pair of Contracts ambushed Lady and me," she began and Vergil felt like cringing. He should have known. Divide and Conquer, not a particularly Yellow-Eyes' choice in tactics, but he should have see it coming nonetheless. "While we confronted them I felt the most…" she drifted off. It was as if she could not fathom the correct word.

"Did they do something to you?" he prodded.

"No!" She reassured readily enough. "It came from something else I believe. Something _influenced_ me, Vergil."

"Influenced, how?"

"I felt…" She began to worry at her lower lip again. "I felt…something I shouldn't feel."

He frowned at that. Although she was the one who instigated this conversation, she seemed to be frugal in her information. He needed to know more if he was to understand what this was really about.

Before he could encourage her however, her nose scrunched up in the cutest of sorts. It was so adorable in fact that Vergil overlooked the key detail that she was sniffing at the residue of blood. But with her nose bunched like a curious kitten's he could hardly be blamed for missing such an important fact.

"Whose blood is that?" She asked, the cute kitten gone in a flash. It made Vergil cringe, but he had to keep face. If he let anything, anything at all, even the slightest of anythings, he was doomed.

"While you were out, Dante and I had some trouble of our own," he began. "A couple of demons ambushed us the moment I stepped out of the wards." He clenched his raw fists. The blood was not on his hands. It was coming from the bathtub. Vergil repeated the thought again and again. There was soap, disinfectant, alcohol, and gallons of water diluting the stench. He was safe from her knowing.

She stared at him, her gaze giving him nothing to work off of. Did she believe him? It wasn't a lie. Two demons did come for Vergil. It was the truth. Part of the truth, but that is not a lie. Not a complete lie. He wasn't lying to her.

"Did you get…" she paused again, like she was still having trouble finding the proper words. "Were you…angry?" the last word was so soft any human ear would have missed it.

"Angry? Why do you-"

"At any time during this encounter were you outrageously angry?"

He frowned. So it was "outrageous" now? What was she looking for? Of course he completely lost it and became something the Rage Demon would have admired. Could he tell her that? Well, he couldn't _lie_ to her. "Yes," he finally answered. "There was a point when the demon enraged me. I ended up killing him."

She opened her mouth, and then closed it. She glared at the linoleum again with renewed heated distaste. Was that the wrong answer? Had he still somehow received her disapproval he so painfully wished to never know? He was a demon after all. Of course he would become enraged. It wasn't terribly uncommon for humans to feel the same at some point.

"Aella?" Calling her seemed to bring her back to him. Her dark eyes pierced him to the spot and Vergil thought for one aching, horrible second that she _knew_.

But her next words denied his fears, "I believe we have a problem with our bond."

**RequiemofaFallenAngel**

Vergil had ushered her out of the bathroom so fast she thought he sensed another demon attack from their bedroom. But he only shoved the unhinged door at a slant to give them the semblance of privacy before he snagged a pair of old jeans from somewhere and sat on the edge of the mattress on the floor. Aella thought he would have used the able bed Lady had slept in last night, but he seemed to not have noticed the bed or chose to ignore it.

"What happened?" He asked as he threaded his fingers together and set his head on them.

"During my confrontation with the Contracts, I felt a rushing through my blood." she stop. Why was this so hard to confer to him? He was the only one she could talk this kind of thing about. It wasn't like Gallus left them an instruction manual. Vergil's crystal gaze pinned her like a bufferfly's wing. "I don't really know how to describe it. But it was cold, like ice sliding down my throat." She bit her lip unconsciously as she remembered the horrifying sensation. But she had to tell him everything if they were going to get through this. It had to be all or nothing and it was too late to back out now.

"It wasn't unpleasant." At this Vergil's eyes widened in his surprise. "I felt… hot."

"You said it was like ice."

"Yes, the feeling that penetrated me, right before that it was ice. Then after that I was hot and all I could think about were the terrible things the man had done. I had to power to do something about it, I could make him feel all the fear he forced on others. And I really wanted to do it, too." She looked away from him. "I-I think you may have…"

Vergil froze; he must have drawn to the same conclusion. Such a clever man he was. "Rage…You felt rage…"

"I should not feel anything of the sort, as you know." Aella rushed on. "Rage is not a feeling I can fathom. But seeing it for so many years in others, and feeling it… though it is not the same… I think…"

She had been standing as far from him without drawing suspicion, leaning against the wall by the window, directly in front of him but just out of reach. As he began connecting the dots Aella watched his face. His silver eyebrows melting into a darker, deeper frown, the clench of his jaw, bright, blue eyes glaring daggers at nothing, when suddenly for one fleeting moment his face was wiped clean. He must have found something she missed and calmed him for but the briefest of moments.

Aella wished to be given this calm thought but knew that he would not share it just yet.

"When we are apart, we can feel what the other feels." He finally said, his voice collected, smart, clam, if only slightly excited. She nodded and he just stared at her. "And you feel uncomfortable around me now." He did not ask it because he already knew it to be true.

"You understand this is _wrong_ for me. To feel what you can feel. I'm not supposed to feel everything as you do."

He stood and made quick strides to her. She shouldn't have bothered forcing space between them. "Aella," he said with a thick voice – too much. There was too much in his voice, in his eyes.

"No."

It was a whisper that shattered his world.

The woman put her hands up as if to guard herself. "I need space. Do you understand? I can't – I don't know how… This is frightening" – he nearly flinched at the word but stopped himself before he revealed how hurt he was by her words – "and I'm not sure if you should be so close to me now."

He gave her a small grin, "Isn't it better if I am closer, so we do not risk what happened again?"

"I will no longer leave your presence, but please don't get too close to me."

It would have been better if she had stabbed him in the back with his own sword. But he pulled himself away from her. "Alright," he nodded with cold eyes, "if you think that's best." Then he abruptly shoved her out of the bedroom.

**RequiemofaFallenAngel**

He fumed and seethed at everything and nothing. If there was a fate, he'd have blamed her! But Vergil did not believe in children stories. Alone, in his brother's dingy home he stared at the bright blue sky out the lone window. There _was_ someone to blame. And it was completely justified that he did so.

Now, Vergil was not a religious man. Being half-demon kinda made you dark-natured to begin with. And though his mother spoke of God, it was scant and she always mentioned him in a distance way, like a relative that lives very far off but someone you still wish to see more. His mother was not apart of any church, marrying a demon and the like outcast her from normal society. Perhaps she did believe in a God, but she didn't put much faith into her two sons for Him.

But with his "brush" with Death, and his new acquaintance with the angel breed, Vergil was not so foolish as to think there was _no_ God. Aella had a "Father," as did Gallus. And though they were years apart in age, they spoke of the same "Father." Vergil new of one God who was called a "Father."

Now was the time to do some serious blaming. This "Father" allowed his daughter to suffer so, and through her suffering she pushed him away just when he thought they were actually getting somewhere. Aella, fallen, traitor, suffered more than he had ever known while he was in the Pit. And the worst of it all was that she _wanted_ to be better and yet her "Father" still neglected her.

"Is she not good enough for you?" Vergil demanded at the bright, blue sky. "Has she not suffered enough to your liking?" he sneered. Yes, he could blame God just fine. "She has no home, no friends, and now you separate her from _me_?"

Vergil snarled, his fangs showing to the stratosphere. "Was this the _warning _you sent me? Vesper told me to leave her, was that something else you thought she deserved?" When no answer came Vergil sighed, feeling a heavy exhaustion take him. Blaming God was easy, but he was left feeling foolish and childish for talking out loud.

Before he pulled away from the bright, blue sky he muttered despairingly under his breath, "What will happen to her?"

**Wow. I have absolutely nothing to say to you. Which is probably NOT what you want to here. But seriously, I kinda lost my way on this one. I could blame writier's block, but since I know what I'm doing with this piece and how I'm ending it and all, that's not entirely the case. Of course it's the stuff between point A and point B that falls prey to writer's block, but again not entirely the problem. **

**I won't lie and say I didn't get bored. Cause this isn't the most interesting chapter, if you couldn't tell. (Which also hurts cause this is what I give you after all this time.) There's all this talking and thinking. Although I will say the end is one of my favorite parts of this entire story. Vergil blaming God. I mean, we all blame God for something at some point and this really kinda just… SPOKE to me. You know? **

**Now here I am, back and hoping that all my fans are still alive and still care. Which brings me to my shout out of the chapter. **wiznoy **just recently reviewed this story. I was checking emails when I saw that my story had a review. And I sat there thinking, who is even reading my stuff? I mean, I haven't updated in 6 months! Who found it under all the updates of all the other stories? **

**And it made me think, "You know what? I want to **_**share**_** what happens to Vergil and Aella!" So I busted out my word docs and spruced up my last chapter and now, here it is. After sooooooo long, I want to give it to all of you! **

**If the feedback is good and I keep getting reviews, then I promise the next chapter won't be far behind! **

**I guess now's a good time to tell y'all as well, this story is almost over. It's got only a couple more chapters to go. I mean, we all KNOW where Vergil's freaking sword is. Dante's just got to bit the bullet and take them there! Plus, um, well, let's just say there will more angel action too. **

**Anyway, I hope this makes your day and you aren't too pissed at me. **


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